Chapter 9

The digital clock on the microwave glowed a harsh, neon green in the pitch-black kitchen: *1:14 AM.*

Clara sat perfectly still on a tall stool at the marble island, the expansive first floor of her home completely swallowed by shadows. The sprawling Vance estate, usually a beacon of warm

Chapter 10

The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the kitchen, casting bright, cheerful beams across the white marble countertops. It was a beautiful, crisp morning, the kind of day Clara’s son would have begged to spend in the garden, searching for earthworms and building f

Chapter 11

The ballroom of the St. Regis was a sea of crystal chandeliers, cascading white orchids, and the clinking of champagne flutes. The annual Vance Real Estate Charity Gala was usually Clara’s favorite event of the year, a night where she could leverage her family’s generational influence to