At 13:00, a convoy of two vehicles pulled up to the modest Rivers family home. Jake stepped out of the lead car, while Elias and the other five guards remained outside, fanning out with a quiet efficiency that made the neighbors peer through their curtains.
The contrast was jarring—the sleek, expensive machinery and the stone-faced men in tailored suits looked like an alien invasion in the quiet middle-class neighborhood.
The front door flew open before Jake could even reach the porch. Aliya stood there, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with a mix of interrogation and awe.
"You are two hours late! And why are there men in suits standing on our lawn?"
"Inside, Aliya," Jake said, gently nudging her back into the house.
The living room smelled of roasted meat and spices, a familiar scent that usually meant a celebration. Martha was in the kitchen, but she hurried out when she heard the door, wiping her hands on her apron.
