Eleanor's funeral took place on a gray Thursday morning, the sky heavy with clouds that threatened rain but never quite delivered. The service was small, held in a quiet chapel on the estate grounds—just the family, Marcus, and a priest who'd never met Eleanor but spoke kindly about redemption and forgiveness.

Luna stood between Grayson and Grace, watching as Eleanor's simple casket was lowered into the ground beside the family plot where other Vaughns rested. It felt strange, burying ...