The Next Day. Carter Mansion.

Vivienne’s return home was treated like a miracle that needed witnesses.

White tents bloomed across the garden. Fairy lights were strung too carefully. Music floated through the air soft, celebratory, almost forced. Staff moved in synchronized panic, carrying trays of champagne and finger food no one was really tasting.

Vivienne sat near the center of it all, dressed in pale blue, a silk shawl draped over her shoulders. She smiled when people spoke to her. She nodded. She thanked them.

But her eyes were hollow. Like someone still trying to remember how she’d survived.

Elizabeth did not leave her side.

“She shouldn’t even be sitting...