…”Hi_Theo.”
Neither of us moved. Theo had been in my apartment for twenty minutes. He’d never been there before.
Then he did something smart. He put the smart plug down on the coffee table, very gently, and said in a loud, cheerful voice, “Yeah, I don’t know, it’s probably just your neighbor’s router. Let’s grab dinner.” Then he took my arm and walked me out the door.
In the hallway, he whispered, “That’s not a plug. Or it’s not only a plug. There’s a camera lens in the front, by the little light. And it has its own hotspot, so it doesn’t even need your Wi-Fi. Whoever’s watching set up that network to talk to you.”
We went straight to the police station. Theo walked the detective through everything on his laptop. The network names, my list, the strength of the signal. Then I gave her my lease, with my landlord’s name, and the date he’d handed me that plug “as a welcome gift.”
Police got a search warrant two days later. They came to my building while I was at work. In my landlord’s apartment, two floors up, they found a laptop with live feeds from three apartments. Mine, and two other young women in the building, each with the same “welcome gift.”
The network names were his way of making us feel watched without ever saying a word. The detective said that’s not unusual. Some people don’t just want to look. They want you to know they’re looking.
He’s been charged with unlawful surveillance on three counts. The other two tenants and I broke our leases together and found a new building across town, with a property management company and an office downstairs.
Theo helped me set up my new Wi-Fi on moving day. He made me pick the network name. I thought about it for a long time, then I typed “Kayla_Is_Fine_Now.” He laughed so hard he had to sit down on a moving box.
