Chapter 81

Home is a Strange Word

The black car pulled up to their townhouse in Kensington just after noon. Summer rain had left a shine on the pavement, and London was buzzing with life. Rhea stepped out first, adjusting her daughter's soft white blanket as Lex handed the driver a tip.

Their home was quiet, warm, and airy—filled with sunlight streaming through tall windows and the faint scent of sandalwood. Everything was exactly as they'd left it, but to Rhea, it felt unfamiliar. Or perhaps… just waiting.

"I'll unpack," Lex offered, already moving toward the hallway. But Rhea lingered at the entrance, staring at the wall by the stairs. Her eyes paused at a framed photo—Lex, Shivin, Sky, and her—taken months ago. She stepped closer.

Behind the photo frame, something rustled.

She frowned. Removed the frame. And there, taped behind it, was a plain white envelope with no name.

Lex returned to find her holding it.

"I didn't put that there," he said slowly.

She opened it.

Inside was a single typed message:

> "Some doors never stay closed, Rhea. The Cartwrights never forget. Neither should you."

—E

Her hands tightened. Lex gently took the paper from her.

"What do they want now?" she whispered.

He didn't answer. He was already dialing Siddharth.