"Someone knew what they were doing," Declan finishes, already moving toward the door. "Someone who understands our security setup."
The implication hangs heavily in the room. This isn't a random breach. This is targeted.
"I need to check the physical sensor," I say, already pulling up the schematics on my phone. "If theyleft any traces..."
"I'm coming with you," Ethan cuts in. "Declan, stay with Jade."
The big man nods, positioning himself near Jade, who's gone very still, her earlier smile vanished like it never existed.
"Could it be an animal?" Sophie asks hopefully. "Or a fallen branch?"
"Sensors don't register as functional after animal interference," I explain gently. "They trigger alerts. This is different. This is someone making the system think everything's normal when it's not."
"Hiding in plain sight," Jade murmurs, and something in her voice makes me look at her sharply. There's understanding in her eyes, a weary recognition that makes me wonder just how long she's been watching her own back.
"Let's go," Ethan says, already checking his weapon. "Gloria, lockdown protocols. No one enters or leaves until we've cleared the property."
As we head for the door, I catch a last glimpse of the breakfast table, the carefully arranged food, the six places set with Jade's fine china, the normalcy we'd been enjoying moments before. Three weeks of peace shattered in an instant.
12
JADE
The door closes behind Ethan and Mateo, leaving an uneasy silence in the kitchen. Gloria studies her tablet with forced concentration. Sophie fidgets with her bracelets, the metallic jingle unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Declan has positioned himself near the window, scanning the property line, his body a study in contained readiness.
And I sit here, trying not to unravel.
"More coffee?" Sophie asks, her voice too bright, too brittle.
"No, thank you." I'm too nervous as it is. I need my hands busy, need to do something besides think about perimeter breaches and security alerts. I reach for the stack of mail Gloria brought in earlier, organizing it into neat piles: bills, magazines, business correspondence. The familiar task anchors me, gives me something concrete to focus on while my mind refuses to stop conjuring worst-case scenarios.
"I'm sure it's nothing," Gloria says, not looking up from her tablet. "Probably just a false alarm."
"Probably," I agree, though neither of us believes it.
Declan says nothing, his silence more honest than our forced optimism.
I sort through the mail: a glossy magazine, a bill from my accountant, a letter from my favorite charity. Then my fingers find a large manila envelope with no return address, just my name typed on a plain white label. Something about it sends a whisper of unease down my spine.
"What's that?" Gloria asks, noticing my hesitation.
"Not sure." I slide my finger under the sealed flap, tearing it open. "Probably more contract paperwork for..."
The words die in my throat as I pull out the contents. Photos. Not professional shots or magazine clippings, but grainy surveillance-style images. Of me. In my living room. On my sofa. At my desk.
Yesterday.
Me in my threadbare hoodie, hair piled messily on top of my head, curled up with a book. Me working at my computer, completely unaware of being watched. Me standing by the window, phone to my ear.
Each photo is marked with a timestamp. Yesterday afternoon. Yesterday evening.
My hands begin to tremble.
"Jade?" Gloria's voice seems to come from far away. "What is it?"
I can't speak, can't form words. I just push the stack of photos toward her, my fingers gone numb with shock.
Gloria's sharp intake of breath draws Declan's attention. He crosses the room, eyes narrowing as he looks over Gloria's shoulder at the images.
