Kashvi stood still in the garden, the small folded paper between her fingers.
Welcome home, Kashvi.
The handwriting was neat. Controlled. Almost deliberate enough to be recognized.
But she refused to let her mind jump to conclusions.
Not yet.
Kriday had already gone back to the chessboard, moving the pieces around absentmindedly.
"Mumma, look," he said excitedly. "He showed me this trap."
Kashvi walked toward the table slowly.
"What trap?"
Kriday moved the black knight across the board.
"If white moves the queen here," he said proudly, "then black sacrifices the bishop… and wins three moves later."
Kashvi's eyes flicked across the board.
The pattern formed instantly in her mind.
It wasn't a beginner move.
It was calculated. Strategic. Patient.
Exactly the kind of move someone would teach if they wanted to send a message.
"Did he win?" she asked quietly.
Kriday grinned.
"Every time."
She studied the board for another moment.
Then she picked up the black bishop and placed it back where it had been.
"So you lost," she said.
Kriday shrugged.
"He said losing is important."
"Did he?"
Kriday nodded.
"He said… 'Sometimes the only way to win is to let the other player think they already have.'"
Kashvi's expression didn't change.
But inside, the meaning was crystal clear.
This wasn't about chess.
This was about her.
Someone had just walked into her house, spoken to her son, and left behind a metaphor.
Not a threat.
A challenge.
One of the security guards approached cautiously.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes."
"We checked the street cameras," he said. "The man who came yesterday."
"And?" Kashvi asked.
The guard hesitated.
"He avoided every camera angle."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Meaning?"
"We have no clear footage of his face."
Of course.
Whoever he was—
He knew exactly how surveillance worked.
Kriday suddenly looked up.
"Oh! But I saw his face."
Kashvi turned to him instantly.
"You did?"
Kriday nodded.
"Yeah. When he smiled."
Her voice stayed calm.
"What did he look like?"
Kriday thought for a moment.
Then said something that made Kashvi's blood run cold.
"He looked… kind of like me."
The words hung in the morning air.
For a moment Kashvi didn't speak.
Kriday continued innocently.
"Not exactly. But a little."
Her mind moved fast.
Too fast.
No.
That was impossible.
She folded the note slowly and slipped it into her pocket.
"Go get ready for school," she told Kriday gently.
"But Mumma—"
"Now."
Kriday nodded and ran back toward the house.
The moment he disappeared inside, Kashvi's expression changed completely.
Cold.
Focused.
Dangerous.
She turned to the head of security.
"Lock down the property."
"Yes, ma'am."
"No visitors. No unknown vehicles within two streets."
"Understood."
"And find out who that man is."
The guard nodded and walked away quickly.
Kashvi remained standing beside the chessboard.
Her eyes moved to the position Kriday had left behind.
The sacrifice.
The trap.
The delayed victory.
Slowly, she moved the black queen across the board.
Checkmate.
Then her phone vibrated.
Another message.
From the same unknown number.
"Did Kriday show you the game?"
A pause.
Then another message appeared.
"You taught me that strategy once."
Kashvi stared at the screen.
Because suddenly—
The voice.
The chess move.
The handwriting.
The calm precision.
They all pointed toward something she had refused to consider.
Her fingers hovered over the phone.
Then the final message arrived.
"Five years is a long time to stay dead."
And for the first time since the wedding night—
Kashvi felt the past step fully back into her present.