Elena's POV
I stayed by the window, watching.
The woman walked with purpose, her heels clicking sharply against the driveway. Expensive bag, flawless hair—she didn't look like someone who stumbled into places. She looked like she belonged.
Derick followed behind her, slower, his gaze scanning the house like it meant something to him. Like he had a right to it.
My hands curled into fists.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe.
A part of me hoped they'd turn around and leave. But they didn't.
The woman said something to him—I couldn't hear what—but he nodded, then headed straight for the door.
I stepped back.
They were here.
In my space.
I didn't know what they wanted, but I knew one thing—
they weren't going to take anything without a fight.
The knock came—sharp. Not hesitant. Not polite.
I didn't answer.
Another knock. Louder this time. Then a voice. His voice.
"Elena, I know you're in there."
I closed my eyes, jaw clenched. I could hear my heart thudding in my ears.
