The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of salt from the ocean and the lingering smoke from the Masquerade fire. For the first time in days, the island felt quiet, almost peaceful. The chaos of the past nights, the fire, the kidnapping, and the threats had settled into a fragile calm.

Winona Montgomery sat in the sunroom of the estate, cradling her swollen belly. She could feel the faint, steady movements of her baby, a reassuring reminder that life continued despite the trauma they ...