Third Person POV
Scarlett’s House, Nova Scotia, 3:27 A.M.
The sound of boots on gravel was too calculated. Not a break-in, not a robbery. A breach. Scarlett knew the difference.
Miriam kept the pistol aimed steadily at Elias, her finger ghosting the trigger. The dim emergency light flickered on above the kitchen sink, casting all their faces in wavering orange.
“They’ve surrounded the house,” Elias said in a low, urgent voice. “The one who followed me…he’s not the only one. They’re not ordinary men. You know that, don’t you?”
Scarlett couldn’t take her eyes off the window. Black shapes shifted past the trees again, silent, methodical, patient. Not in a hurry. They were waiting for something.
“I need you both to trust me,” Elias added. “There’s another way out. A route they won’t know
