Ivy's POV
The room fell silent after I said it.
"Take it all."
The smaller thief looked delighted.
"Did you hear that?" he said, turning to his partner. "She's literally begging us."
But the tall one didn't move.
He stood there, staring at me like he was trying to see through my skin and into something deeper.
I didn't know why that bothered me.
Maybe because no one had looked at me like that in a long time.
Most people looked at the mansion.
The cars.
The money.
The Carter name.
No one looked at me.
The smaller thief shrugged and continued stuffing jewelry into his bag.
"Honestly," he muttered, "this is the easiest job we've ever done."
The tall one finally spoke.
"What's your name?"
The question surprised me.
I blinked.
"Why does that matter?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said quietly, "Because people usually scream when they see us."
I almost laughed.
A small, bitter sound escaped my throat.
"You're disappointed?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're strange."
I leaned against the dresser, folding my arms loosely.
"So are you."
The smaller thief glanced between us, clearly impatient.
"Can we finish the robbery before you two start a therapy session?"
He moved to the wardrobe I had opened earlier.
"Holy—" he whispered, staring at the rows of designer dresses. "This closet alone could buy a house."
He began pulling expensive bags off the shelves.
"Relax, brother," the tall one said calmly.
They call each other brothers, perfectly hiding their identity as if I care.
The smaller one rolled his eyes behind the mask.
"I am relaxed. I'm enjoying myself."
The tall one, apparently—was still watching me.
"You live here alone?" he asked.
"Yes."
"No security?"
"There was."
"Was?"
"They left."
"Why?"
I shrugged.
"Because the man who hired them left."
He studied my face again.
"You mean your husband."
The word landed in the air like something fragile.
I didn't answer.
The smaller one suddenly held up a diamond necklace.
"Brother, this thing alone could pay my tuition for three years."
The taller one didn't even look at it.
His attention remained on me.
"You're not even curious what we're looking for."
That caught my attention.
"What you're looking for?"
He seemed to realize he had said too much.
His eyes shifted briefly.
"Brother," he said, "we're done here."
The smaller thief spun around.
"What? Already?"
The taller one grabbed the bag from his brother's hand.
"That's enough."
The smaller thief looked around the enormous bedroom in disbelief.
"There's still a lot left."
"Another time."
He sighed dramatically.
"Fine. But this place is going on my personal favorites list."
He slung the bag over his shoulder.
The two of them began moving toward the door.
I watched them quietly.
They were almost gone.
And suddenly something inside me tightened again.
That same empty, crushing feeling that had followed me every day since Philip disappeared.
Everyone leaves eventually.
My family.
Philip.
Even strangers who break into my house.
Before I realized what I was doing, I spoke.
"Wait."
Both men stopped.
Noah turned first.
"Changed your mind?"
"No."
The taller thief turned slowly.
His eyes met mine again.
The room felt strangely smaller.
"You missed something," I said.
The smaller thief's eyes lit up.
"I knew it!"
I walked to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer.
Inside were several stacks of cash.
Emergency money.
Philip had always insisted on keeping it there.
I picked up the bundles and placed them on the bed.
"Take these too."
The smaller thief didn't hesitate this time.
He grabbed them eagerly and stuffed them into the bag.
The taller thief still didn't move.
"You really don't care," he said.
It wasn't a question.
I shook my head.
"No."
"Why?"
I looked past him toward the hallway.
Toward the rest of the silent house.
The massive mansion felt colder tonight than usual.
Because the truth was painfully simple.
"It's just a house," I said softly.
The smaller thief waited.
I could tell he knew that wasn't the real answer.
But I didn't feel like explaining my life story to a stranger wearing a mask.
So I gave him the short version.
"The man who mattered more than all of this…"
My voice trailed off.
For a second, I couldn't finish the sentence.
The taller thief didn't interrupt.
Neither did the smaller one.
"He left," I said finally.
The smaller thief shifted awkwardly.
The taller thief's gaze softened slightly.
I hated that.
I didn't want sympathy from a thief.
So I forced a small smile.
"Now you should go."
The smaller thief adjusted the bag on his shoulder.
"Best robbery ever," he repeated.
The taller thief hesitated one last second.
Then he turned toward the door.
But just before stepping out, he looked back.
His eyes met mine one final time.
Something unreadable passed across his face.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
Maybe even concern.
I didn't know.
And I didn't care.
They disappeared into the hallway.
A few seconds later, the house fell completely silent again.
I stood there in the middle of the bedroom.
Alone.
Exactly the way I had been before they arrived.
The only difference was the open drawers and empty jewelry boxes scattered around the room.
Strangely, the house felt lighter.
Like something heavy had been removed.
Downstairs, I heard the faint sound of a door closing.
Then nothing.
They were gone.
I walked slowly to the dresser and opened the drawer the robbers had missed.
Inside was a small silver frame.
Philip's photograph stared back at me.
Handsome.
Cold.
Untouchable.
My fingers trembled as I traced the edge of the frame.
"You left me," I whispered.
My voice cracked.
The silence of the mansion swallowed the words.
I closed the drawer and leaned against the dresser.
For a moment, I considered calling the police.
But I didn't.
Instead, I walked toward the window.
Outside, the night was quiet.
Somewhere in the distance, a car engine started.
The thieves were already gone.
But I couldn't shake the image
of those eyes behind the mask.
For some reason, they didn't look like the eyes of a criminal.
They looked…
conflicted.
I shook the thought away.
It didn't matter.
None of it mattered anymore.
I slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.
I stared at the empty drawer beside me.
Then I leaned back against the headboard.
My eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
And for the first time in weeks…
I almost felt something.
Not happiness.
Not relief.
Just a strange, quiet thought.
I wondered if the tall one would come back.