Ribbons of fate

Chapter 3: Strategic Entry

Ethan Reece's POV (Rez)

My approach to the massive Rsman mansion was precise. No casual fence-jumping for me—this was an executive move. I rang the heavy, ornate doorbell, projecting calm confidence, the way a man in control always does.

The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Ana Rsman—Tracy’s mother. Sharp, elegant, professional. Yet there was warmth beneath the surface, a practiced hospitality I could read immediately.

“Hello? Can I help you?” she asked, voice welcoming but formal.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” I began, keeping my tone smooth and polite. “I’m Ethan Reece. My friends and I were playing basketball next door, and our ball ended up in your yard. I wanted to apologize and see if someone could help me retrieve it.”

Her stern posture softened instantly. “Oh, no problem at all, Ethan. That’s quite a yard—you must be tired from the game. Come in, dear.”

Moments later, she returned with a glass of cold milk and a plate stacked with homemade cookies. “Sit for a moment. We’re still unpacking, but please, make yourself comfortable.”

I accepted, impressed. Warm, maternal energy in one hand, commanding intellect in the other—a balance I knew was rare.

“It’s a beautiful house, Mrs. Rsman,” I said, lifting the glass.

“Thank you, Ethan. We’re getting there. Since you’ll be neighbors and classmates, you should meet my son, Jason.” She called up the grand staircase. “Jason! Could you come down here, please? Your neighbor, Ethan, is here.”

Jason shuffled down reluctantly, half-slouched on the banister, eyes sharp and assessing.

“Jason, this is Ethan Reece. He lives next door,” Mrs. Ana introduced gently.

Jason nodded minimally, cool and reserved. I extended my hand, and he shook it firmly, but with clear reluctance. “Yeah. My ball’s somewhere in your yard. I’ll get it later,” he muttered.

“Jason,” his mother intervened, voice firm, “that’s not polite. Go help Ethan find his ball.”

Reluctantly, he complied, sending me a glance of thinly veiled annoyance—a silent acknowledgment of my small victory.

I smiled inwardly. Charm the mother, size up the brother, and secure a foothold in the Rsman household. Crucially, Tracy remained unseen, still a mystery waiting for the right moment.

This wasn’t just a neighborly introduction—it was a strategic entry.