The security team arrived at dawn on a Thursday.
They did not knock. They did not announce themselves. They simply appeared at the gate, clad in black tactical gear, carrying scanners that hummed with a low, invasive frequency. Commander Halsey led them. She held a tablet in one hand and a badge in the other.
I met them at the entrance. Ezra stood beside me. We did not invite them in. We waited for them to ask.
"Perimeter sweep," Halsey said. She did not wait for permission. She signaled her team. They spread out across the grounds, moving with practiced efficiency. Some climbed the roof. Others checked the foundation. Two walked the boundary line where the garden met the wild dunes.
"You are early," I said.
"Protocol requires forty-eight hours," Halsey replied. She looked at the hous
