I knew her before she stepped inside the house.
Not because I had met her—
but because some people arrive carrying gravity. They bend the room before they cross the threshold.
The screen went dark. The intercom clicked off.
Alexander didn’t move.
Neither did I.
For a suspended moment, we stood there—two people facing the consequence of a history that had just walked back into the present.
“She’s not supposed to be here,” he said finally.
“That’s rarely stopped anyone important,” I replied.
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Deliberate. Unhurried.
Alexander turned to me. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I do,” I said. “Because she already knows I exist.”
His jaw tightened. “Seraphina—”
“If this is going to poison us,” I continued calmly, “I’d rather watch it happen in daylight.”
Another
