Orpheus’s gaze moves over the room, sharp and furious.
“Stay behind me,” he says again, and this time I don’t argue.
He moves through the space quickly and silently, checking corners, rooms, and shadows.
I stand frozen near the entrance, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This isn’t random or a simple burglary. This is someone letting me know they can reach me.
Orpheus returns after a moment, his expression unreadable.
“No one’s here,” he says.
My knees feel weak. I grip the doorframe.
I take a step forward, and my eyes catch something on the table. A piece of paper.
White. Clean. Too deliberate.
My stomach drops.
Orpheus sees it too.
He reaches for it first, then pauses, glancing at me like he’s giving me the choice.
I step forward, my fingers numb as I reach to pick it up.
My name is written across the top. Not Cassia.
A different name. An old name.
My breath catches as if someone punched me.
Orpheus’s body goes rigid beside me.
“What is that?” he asks, voice dangerously quiet.
I stare at the note, the words swimming. I force myself to read the words.
Cassiopia,
Miss me?
You’re not as good at disappearing as you think.
Talos
The room tilts.
For a second, I’m not in my house anymore.
I’m somewhere else, somewhere hotter, harsher, filled with the sound of metal and laughter that wasn’t kind.
My throat closes up.
My hands start shaking so badly the paper crinkles.
Orpheus’s gaze is on me, intense, but I can’t look at him. I can’t explain. I can’t breathe.
