"The house is still here."
Aria stood on the narrow street in Oia, staring at the white-washed building she hadn't seen in five years.
It looked exactly as she remembered.
Marcus paid the taxi driver while Dmitri scanned the surrounding area for threats. The streets of Santorini were crowded with tourists, which provided cover but also made surveillance harder to detect.
"How do we get inside?" Marcus asked.
Aria walked to the door and lifted a loose stone beside the threshold. Underneath was a key, weathered but intact.
"My mother always kept a spare here," Aria said. "She said a house should never lock out family."
She unlocked the door. It opened with a creak.
Inside, dust covered every surface. Furniture sat beneath white sheets, and the air smelled stale.
"Nobody's been here," Dmitri observed. "Not recently."
