From the window above, the garden appeared unchanged. That, in itself, was the problem.

Every path, every hedge, every shadow fell exactly where memory expected them to be, yet something new occupied the space between. A presence careful enough not to disturb, but careless enough to exist. Kate chose not to alert the House.

Quiet steps carried her into the garden. The night air was still, carrying no signs of haste or retreat. Time passed. Silence stretched. Then, near the edge of the trimmed paths, movement resolved into certainty.

The figure had not hidden. Nor had it fled, Kate stopped at a measured distance.

“Were the gates open when you entered, or did you find another way?" She paused, looking at the stranger behavior.

"Did you come seeking something… or someone?” Another brief pause, eyes assessing rather than accusing.