Damian's POV
Lena came downstairs holding the rose.
She didn't need to explain. I looked at it and understood immediately — the same white rose, the same deliberate placement, the same message it had always carried.
I was here. I can reach you.
Except this time it had been placed inside her room. On her bed. While all four of us had been in the sitting room two floors below.
I took the rose from her hand.
Looked at it.
Then at her face — composed, watching me, giving me the information without the panic because she understood that panic wasn't useful and she'd trained herself out of it months ago.
"Someone is still in this house," she said.
"Yes," I said.
Reeves appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Saw the rose. His expression shifted.
"The devices we found last night," he said
