Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Guest
Elena froze, her head snapping toward the side of the house where the driveway curved out of sight. The sound of heavy footsteps crunching deliberately over the autumn leaves sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins.
"Get inside, Clara," Elena hissed, grabbing her daughter’s arm with a desperate grip.
"He's not finished talking, Mom," Clara protested, pulling back with surprising strength for a seven-year-old. Her eyes remained locked on the bench, where the older man was already beginning to fade, his form blurring at the edges like ink dissolving in water.
"Clara, listen to me now!" Elena shouted, panic overriding her maternal gentleness. She looked back toward the bench, but the wooden seat was completely empty. The small green container sat alone on the weathered slats, half-filled with apples and cinnamon, the steam entirely gone.
"Dad!" Elena cried out, rushing forward and grabbing the back of the bench where he had been sitting just seconds before. Her fingers clutched nothing but cold air and rough splinters. The yard was dead silent once more, save for the whistling wind through the oak branches and the heavy crunch of boots rounding the corner of the house.
A tall man in a dark charcoal suit stepped out from the narrow walkway between the garage and the patio. He had sharp features, slicked-back dark hair, and cold, unblinking eyes that scanned the yard with practiced efficiency. He stopped when he saw Elena standing by the bench with her daughter, a smooth, practiced smile stretching across his thin lips.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Vance," the stranger said, his voice rich and dangerously polite. "I’m Agent Miller. I’m here regarding the property assessment your father requested shortly before his unfortunate passing."
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Elena’s blood ran cold. Her father had never requested a property assessment in his life.
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