The rain had settled into a steady, unrelenting curtain against the windows by the time Victoria pulled the board game from the shelf. Soft jazz played low from the speakers. The living room smelled of the red wine she had opened and the faint woodsmoke from the fireplace Marcus had lit earlier. Elena sat cross-legged on the rug, knees drawn up under an oversized sweater that belonged to no one in particular. Marcus occupied the armchair across from her, long legs stretched out, a glass of whiskey resting on the armrest.

Victoria dealt the cards with practiced ease. “Okay, house rules. No mercy, no alliances, and the loser does the...