My Son Asked Why I Got Home at 1:12 A.M. — Then I Learned My Smart Home Had Been Telling Him for Two Years
PART 2
Rebecca found the shared-user page in less than three minutes.
She did not need Evan to take the phone.
She was absurdly relieved to manage that much herself.
Under HOME MEMBERS, her name appeared first.
Rebecca Sloan — Owner.
Below it:
Evan Sloan — Admin.
She tapped his name.
A list opened.
Front Door Lock: Full Access.
Doorbell Camera: Live View and Events.
Driveway Camera: Live View and Events.
Side Gate Camera: Live View and Events.
Smoke/CO Alerts: On.
Water Alerts: On.
Activity Notifications: On.
Rebecca read the list twice.
“What does admin mean?”
Evan stood beside the kitchen island, not quite close enough to see her screen.
“It means I can help manage devices.”
“Can you change my lock code?”
“I can add or remove codes.”
“Can you see old activity?”
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“I don’t know. It depends on the device.”
She opened the front-door history.
Sunday, 1:12 a.m. — Front Door Unlocked.
Saturday, 6:41 p.m. — Front Door Locked.
Saturday, 6:32 p.m. — Front Door Unlocked.
The entries continued down the screen.
Rebecca felt heat move up her neck.
“Does this show every time I come and go?”
“It shows lock events.”
“That was not my question.”
“Yes.”
Molly got up and came around the table.
Evan said, “You don’t need to pile on.”
“I’m looking at Mom’s phone.”
Rebecca scrolled.
A thumbnail from the doorbell camera showed Deirdre leaving Thursday with a casserole dish.
Another showed a package delivery.
Another showed Rebecca standing on the porch in sweatpants, shaking crumbs out of a toaster tray.
She almost laughed at the absurdity.
Instead she looked at Evan.
“Have you watched these?”
“Not all of them.”
“How many?”
“I don’t count.”
Molly said, “That is not helping.”
Rebecca held up her hand again.
“What do you do when you get an alert?”
Evan exhaled.
“Usually nothing.”
“Usually.”
“Sometimes I check.”
“For what?”
“To make sure everything looks normal.”
Rebecca stared at him.
Her son did not know who she had been with the night before.
He did know the minute her lock opened.
The distinction should have comforted her.
It did not.
She turned the phone back toward herself.
“Tomorrow,” she said, “you and I are going through every permission on this system.”
Evan nodded.
Rebecca looked again at the screen.
Full Access.
The words were ordinary software language.
In her kitchen, they felt much larger.
