She’s 911 call about a Black man tinkering with his Wi-Fi sparks a jaw-dropping revelation that leaves everyone stunned…

He recognized it immediately. It was her house. She stumbled backward, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Navarro’s voice was sharp. How the hell is this happening? Darius gritted his teeth. If I had to guess.

Someone in the neighborhood set up a fake network. A Wi-Fi signal that looks like a normal connection. People unknowingly connect to it.

And once they do, their devices get compromised. Carter’s face darkened. You mean, a man-in-the-middle attack? Darius nodded.

Exactly. Melanie’s voice shook. So you’re saying someone’s been—what? Watching me? My family? Darius’s eyes didn’t leave hers.

That’s exactly what I’m saying. She sank into a chair, her hands trembling. Oh my God.

Navarro’s jaw tightened. All right. We need to figure out who’s behind this.

And fast. But what none of them knew was that the person responsible was a lot closer than they thought. Detective Navarro wasted no time.

He pulled out his radio and called in for cybercrime support. This is bigger than we thought, he muttered to Officer Carter. If someone’s running a surveillance network, they’re not just invading privacy, they’re committing a felony.

Carter nodded, her expressions serious. And if we don’t stop them now, who knows how far they’ve already gone. Darius, still seated at his laptop, was already digging deeper.

He wasn’t a hacker, but he knew enough about network security to trace where the data was being sent. He opened the IP logs and froze. Wait.

This can’t be right. Navarro looked up. What? Darius turned the laptop screen so they could see.

The data isn’t going to some random server. It’s being sent to an address right here in the neighborhood. Melanie’s eyes widened.

You mean someone close by is behind this? Darius nodded. It’s coming from a house just a few doors down. Navarro’s expression darkened.

Can you pinpoint exactly which one? Darius worked fast, cross-referencing connection timestamps with signal strength. Within minutes, he had a match. His stomach dropped.

He recognized the address. Melanie did too. No, she whispered, shaking her head.

That’s— Darius cut her off, voice cold. That’s Brandon’s house. Brandon Foster.

Melanie’s own nephew. A 22-year-old college student who had moved in with her a few months ago. He was quiet…