Chapter 13 - The Echoes of the Serpent
That night, the house felt like a hollow shell. Arthur had tripled the guard rotation, and the floodlights were blazing, turning the backyard into an artificial daylight. I sat in the study, the black envelope laid out on my desk like a dead bird.
"I tracked the car tire marks from the perimeter," Arthur said, entering the room with a glass of scotch. "They lead to a dead-end road near the main highway. No plates, no witnesses. It’s professional, Amanda."
"It’s not just professional," I said, tracing the serpent seal with my thumb. "It’s personal. This was my mother’s seal. She died believing that this family would eventually reclaim everything she failed to take from Victoria."
"I thought your mother was the only one who carried that obsession," Arthur said, taking a seat opposite me.
"She was the only one who lived to speak of it," I corrected. "I grew up hearing stories about the 'Serpent’s Keepers.' They were the loyalists—the ones who didn't care about Victoria’s logistics companies or her board seats. They cared about the bloodline. They think Ethan belongs to them."
Arthur’s jaw tightened. "They won't touch him. Not while I’m alive."
"They don't care about legal contracts or plea deals, Arthur," I sighed, looking at the security feed on my monitor. Ethan was sleeping peacefully in his room, oblivious to the fact that the walls around him were being watched.
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"Then we go on the offensive," Arthur suggested, leaning forward. "If they think they can intimidate you with letters and shadows, they’ve clearly forgotten who you are. You survived Victoria. You can survive a few ghosts."
"I’m not afraid for myself," I said, my gaze hardening. "I’m afraid that by trying to bury the past, I only gave it more time to grow roots. We need to find out who sent that note. Now."
