Elin’s POV

Wendy’s arrival swept through the villa like a fresh breeze, scattering the stifling air. The Christmas tree’s lights twinkled warm yellow, and we sat cross-legged on the living room rug, Fiona bringing steaming hot cocoa and gingerbread men. Wendy chattered nonstop about office gossip—the new director’s bizarre demands, the holiday party where so-and-so got drunk and danced like a fool. I listened, and soon laughter bubbled out of me.

Istha hummed low inside, not ...