Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1850

Lincoln let out an exasperated sigh. "Daddy, Mommy, I'm still here, you know. I can understand everything you're saying."

Helen's face flushed with embarrassment, too self-conscious to reply.

Chandler, however, was completely unfazed. With a confident swagger, he slid his arm around Helen's waist and collapsed onto the couch. Crossing one leg over the other, he relaxed, looking completely at ease.

Lincoln shook his head and stepped forward to take charge. Turning to Sienna, he said, "For now, just focus on the meaning and pronunciation of these idioms. When you turn 12, I'll explain the rest."

"Okay," Sienna agreed, quickly moving on to the next idiom.

Without warning, a loud crash interrupted the moment. A fist-sized rock hurtled through the window, arcing across the room before landing with a thud on the children's desk.

Startled by the noise, Sienna jumped in fright. Helen hurried over, pulling her into a reassuring hug. "Don't be scared, Nana. Mommy's here."

Meanwhile, Chandler opened the window and leaped out. He chased after the direction from which the rock had come, disappearing into the night.

Equally tense, Lincoln rushed downstairs to follow him.

With their departure, the house fell quiet, leaving just Helen and Sienna.

Fearing another attack could be on the way, Helen quickly pulled Sienna behind the couch for cover.

The two waited in tense silence, the minutes dragging on. Only when Helen was sure it was safe did they cautiously emerge.

Looking out the window, Helen's attention was drawn to the rock that had landed on the floor. It appeared to have something tied to it.

She walked over, picked it up, and noticed a piece of paper secured with a string. After untying the string, she gently unfolded the note.

"LEAVE THIS PLACE!!!"

As Helen read the chilling warning, a deafening clap of thunder rang through the air, making the ground seem to shake.

The three bold words, emphasized with multiple exclamation marks, exuded a threatening air.

Unable to shake her unease, Helen decided to follow him downstairs.

By the time they reached the foyer, the knocking hadn't stopped. In fact, it had grown louder, the urgency of the visitor unmistakable.

Chandler approached the door, hesitating for a moment as his hand gripped the handle. He knew he needed to be on high alert. If the person outside tried to force their way in, he had to be ready to act immediately.

With Helen and the children behind him, he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

At that moment, Chandler felt a pang of regret. He had been too complacent in Miravell, neglecting to put security measures in place from the beginning.

Adjusting his stance, Chandler shoved the door open with a firm push. Seeing only one person standing outside, he let out a quiet sigh of relief—but his guard stayed up.

The figure was dressed in a black raincoat, holding a briefcase—looking like something straight out of a spy thriller.

But as the man lifted his head, Jenson's familiar features came into view.