[POV: Sofia Lanka]

"You’re actually suggesting I sleep in the servant’s quarters of my own husband’s estate while that vulture picks through my jewelry boxes, Zara? I should be burning this place to the ground, not unpacking a suitcase."

Sofia stood in the center of a cramped, dimly lit apartment on the far edge of the Monroe grounds. The walls were thin, and the smell of old pine cleaner struggled against the dampness of the rainy evening. Her hands shook as she clutched the handle of her luggage, her knuckles white. Across from her, Zara—the only woman in the Meristate district Sofia truly trusted—set down a tray of bitter tea...