10:20 PM. Vivienne’s Room. Carter Mansion.

The house had settled into its usual night rhythm.

Distant clinks from the kitchen.

A door closing somewhere down the hall.

The low hum of the generator kicking in and out like a steady pulse.

Vivienne shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned back against it for a second.

Not to rest.

To listen.

Nothing unusual.

No footsteps lingering. No voices just outside the door.

Still, she stayed there a moment longer, eyes on the handle, as if expecting it to turn.

It didn’t.

She stepped away.

The shopping bags from earlier sat untouched on the chaise. Peach fabric peeked out from one...