The Denovan estate was quiet that night. The long corridors, usually filled with maids rushing about, had grown still. Outside, the wind whispered against the tall windows, carrying the faint scent of rain.

Maya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. She shifted under the blanket, turning from side to side, but her mind wouldn’t rest. Her thoughts tangled like threads about Elias, about the threats, about the weight of everything pressing on her chest. The silence of the estate only made it worse.

She sat up, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. The screen was dark,...