Alex stepped out alone, waving off the driver. The air felt different here—cooler, heavier with meaning. Each step along the stone path echoed louder than it should have. The door, weathered and familiar, stood between who he had become and who he once was. He rang the bell.
Seconds stretched thin, taut with expectation. Then the door opened. Sofia stood there. Time had left its mark—fine lines at the edges of her eyes, a quiet resilience in her posture—but her gaze was unmistakable. Direct. Steady. Unimpressed. Her hair was pulled back simply, her clothes practical and unadorned, as if she belonged to a life that didn’t require proof of worth.
“Alex?” she said, disbelief sharpening her tone. “Why are you here?”
Everything he had planned to say dissolved. “I just…” His voice faltered. “I needed to see you.” And in that moment, standing on a doorstep far removed from wealth and power, Alex felt poorer than he had ever been.
Sofia scrutinized him, her dark eyes filled with an indecipherable mixture of surprise, suspicion, and perhaps, barely perceptible, a hint of curiosity. After a few moments that seemed like hours, she stepped aside. “Come in,” she said, her voice emotionless. “Don’t just stand there.”
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