One quiet Wednesday he returned home early. The estate sprawled across rolling lawns outside the city, lined with trimmed hedges and guarded gates. As he stepped through the foyer the head of security approached with a tablet in hand. “Sir, there was activity behind the south garden half an hour ago. Likely nothing serious, but you may want to see it.”
Alastair took the tablet. The security feed opened to a live view of the stone steps behind the greenhouse. He expected to see a gardener or a stray animal. Instead he froze.
Celia sat on the steps alone. Beside her sat someone unfamiliar. A teenage boy with dark brown skin, maybe sixteen, dressed in a faded jacket and scuffed sneakers. He held a worn backpack on his lap. The scene felt surreal. No one outside staff or family ever reached that part of the grounds. Security protocols made such a moment nearly impossible.
Before he tapped the emergency alert on his phone something unexpected caught his attention.