Chapter 2: White Roses for a Burning House
I did not move for a long moment.
Emma watched me with those steady brown eyes, still holding Señor Bunny against her chest like a small shield.
"How many times did you see it blink?" I asked.
She held up three fingers.
Three nights.
At least three nights she could remember.
I stood slowly and walked to my desk.
I opened the bottom drawer and placed the device inside without looking at it again.
Then I picked up my phone and sent Marco one word.
*Valentina.*
Thirty seconds later, a soft knock.
"She just arrived, sir," Marco said through the door.
"She's in the front hall.
She brought flowers."
Flowers.
For the house she had been listening to for weeks.
I looked at Emma one last time.
"You did the right thing," I said quietly.
She nodded once, very serious, and hugged the rabbit tighter.
I straightened my jacket and walked to the door.
Valentina was standing in the entrance hall below, still in her coat, holding white roses and smiling up at the staircase.
She had no idea the green light was gone.
She had no idea I knew.
May you like
And she had no idea that behind me, at the top of those stairs, a four-year-old girl was watching everything — and remembering every word.
I smiled back.
