The Red String Between Us: Part III Eternal Thread

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      The knock came just after dusk. Eden, back at her townhouse, hesitated before opening the door. No one stood there—only a small package wrapped in plain brown paper, no markings, no return address. Her stomach flipped.

She carried it inside carefully, setting it on the counter as though it might explode. With shaky hands, she tore the paper open.

Inside was a silk scarf.

Her scarf. The one she had lost weeks ago on a rushed commute to the office, a favorite she had assumed slipped off somewhere in the city. Now it was folded neatly, pressed flat, and smelling faintly of her perfume.

A note lay beneath it:

You shouldn't leave things behind. I'll always return them.

Her chest tightened, fear lodging like a stone in her throat. Whoever this was—they weren't just watching. They had been close enough to her, to her things, to touch what was hers.

Her fingers fumbled as she called Kenji.

He picked up instantly. "Eden?"

"They were here," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Kenji, they left something. My scarf. One I lost weeks ago. And they wrote—" Her voice broke. "They're making it clear. It's me. I'm the target."

There was silence on the line, then the sound of Kenji swearing under his breath. "Stay put. Lock every door. Security is on the way—I'll be there as soon as I can."

     Kenji arrived, and he was nothing but short. He went through the house checking if anyone was there besides us. He soon made it back downstairs. He informed her no one else was in th home, and that things would be okay. Relief and frustration tangled inside her. "You always say that, but nothing changes. They're getting bolder, Kenji. They're not just out by the fence anymore—they're inside my life."

"Because you won't let me fully protect you!" His tone snapped, sharp and raw. "You insist on doing everything your way—keeping things to yourself, being secretive, minimizing risks, pretending you don't need help... like you don't need me."

Her anger flared. "Secretive? You want to talk about secretive? You keep everything about your world so locked down, half the time I don't even know where you are or what you're fighting. You can shut down board members and investors like it's nothing, but when it comes to us? You hide."

"That's not hiding—it's protecting you."

"From what?!" She nearly shouted at him, tears stinging her eyes. "Because from where I'm standing, the only thing I need protecting from is whoever is stalking me—and that's because of you."

The silence after her words was deafening.

Kenji's voice, when it came, was low, heavy with something between fury and hurt. "So now you blame me for this?"

Her chest heaved. "If I wasn't with you, would this be happening? Would I have to check my doorstep before I walk into my own home? Would I need security outside? No, Kenji. This is your world—your enemies, your spotlight—and now it's bleeding into mine."

For a moment neither spoke, both trapped in the weight of what she had said. Then Kenji's voice, clipped and controlled: "Look, I'm here. Whether you want me there or not."

Eden stood frozen in her living room, the scarf clutched in her hands, the note lying like a curse on the counter. For the first time, she wondered if love with Kenji wasn't just going to elevate her—it might destroy her.