**ELENA POV**
The first thing I notice is the way the house changes its breathing.
It is subtle. Almost nothing. A pause where there should not be one. The soft rhythm of movement and voices shifts, like a body going still after sensing a hand on the door.
I am in the sunroom with my book open on my lap, pretending to read. I have been on the same page for ten minutes. The words blur. Outside, the trees sway gently, innocent of what is coiling beneath them.
Footsteps approach too fast to be casual.
Damian appears in the doorway, already tense. His phone is in his hand. His jaw is locked so tight I can see the muscle jumping near his temple.
“What is it?” I ask, even though my chest already knows.
“There were footprints near the east fence,” he says.
My stomach drops. “Footprints.”
