Chapter 59 Chapter 59

Chapter 59 Chapter 59

Rain continues through most of the afternoon, steady enough to blur the edges of the property beyond the windows, while tension settles deeper into the house rather than easing. The movement downstairs never fully stops, phones ringing intermittently, footsteps crossing the hardwood floors, voices lowering whenever someone passes too close to where I’m sitting.
Nobody says the word afraid.
But it exists anyway.
Patrick stays in motion for nearly an hour after the security team's alert, moving between the office and the kitchen while Josh coordinates with the guards outside and Mike works through the camera footage at the island, with Jake leaning over his shoulder.
Drew is the only one who openly keeps checking on me.
Not hovering.
Just… present.
He sets another cup of coffee beside me at one point before disappearing again, and later, a plate of food appears near my elbow without comment while the others argue quietly over blind spots near the east side fencing.
“The timing’s wrong,” Mike says, frustration tightening his voice as he rewinds the footage again. “If somebody had crossed there, Camera seven should’ve caught them before six went dark.”
“Unless they knew exactly where the overlap failed,” Josh replies from the doorway.
That quiets the room for half a second.
That possibility feels worse.
Jake leans back against the counter, arms now crossed tightly. “You really think somebody fed them the layout?”
“I think somebody’s getting confident,” Patrick says evenly as he walks back into the kitchen.
Rainwater darkens the shoulders of his shirt from where he’d apparently stepped outside again, and something about the sight of him like that—focused, controlled, already carrying the weight of everyone else in the room- pulls my attention immediately.
He notices.
Of course he does.
His gaze flicks toward me briefly before he reaches toward the tablet. Mike slides it across the counter, and the room subtly shifts around him as everyone waits for his reaction without making it obvious they’re doing so.
Patrick studies the screen for several seconds in silence while the rain continues tapping steadily against the windows.
Then... “They touched the fence here intentionally,” he says, zooming in on the grainy footage. “Not to get in. To test response time.”
Mike exhales sharply through his nose. “So we’re dealing with someone who is patient.”
“No,” Patrick replies calmly. “We’re dealing with someone escalating.”
The distinction settles heavily over the room again.
Josh pushes away from the doorway and walks toward the island, tension sharpening through his posture. “At what point do we stop waiting for them to make the next move?”
Patrick sets the tablet down carefully before answering.
“We already have.”
Jake straightens slightly. “Meaning?”
Patrick’s attention moves among them before settling briefly on me again.
“Meaning whoever’s outside thinks they’re controlling the pace of this.” His voice stays even, controlled in a way that somehow makes it land harder. “They’re wrong.”
Silence follows.
Not uncertain.
Thinking.
Mike rubs a hand along his jaw before looking back at the security feed. “You got a plan?”
“Yes.”
Josh’s eyes narrow slightly. “And?”
Patrick slowly folds his sleeves, his expression unreadable in that dangerous way that usually means he’s already decided something before the rest of us realize the conversation has started.
“We tighten the perimeter tonight,” he says. “Additional coverage at the back property line, rotating patrols every twenty minutes; and nobody moves alone until we know exactly who is watching us.”
Jake nods immediately while Mike reaches for his phone again, already moving.
Drew finally sits beside me for the first time in nearly an hour, his shoulder brushing lightly against mine as he lowers his voice.
“You holding up okay?”
I look toward the windows where rainwater streaks down the glass in uneven lines. “I think so.”
He studies me quietly for a second before nodding once. “That’s enough.”
The simple acceptance of it loosens something tight in my chest.
Across the kitchen, Patrick finishes another call before finally looking back toward me fully.
“Emmy.”
My attention shifts immediately.
“Come here.”
The words aren’t sharp but are still impossible to ignore.
I stand and cross the kitchen slowly while conversation continues around us, Mike arguing quietly with someone on speakerphone now while Josh pulls up property maps beside him.
Patrick waits until I stop in front of him before lowering his voice enough that the others can’t easily hear.
“You need a break from this room.”
I glance around the kitchen automatically. “You don’t.”
His mouth almost lifts at that.
Almost.
“I don’t get one.”
Something about the honesty in that lands deeper than it should.
Before I can answer, headlights sweep briefly across the front windows from outside, bright enough to cut through the kitchen for half a second before disappearing again.
The entire room is still.
Mike looks up first. “Who the hell is that?”
Josh is already moving toward the front hall while Jake steps away from the counter beside him.
Patrick’s hand settles immediately against my lower back, steady and protective as his attention sharpens toward the windows.
The rain keeps falling outside.
Steady.
Unchanged.
But inside the house, everything tightens all over again.