The alarm cut through the night like a small, insistent bell. Elena reached across for the phone, silenced it, and for a moment let the darkness hold her. Then duty pulled her from the bed. She dressed quickly, smoothing her hair into a practical bun, and padded downstairs where the kitchen already smelled faintly of coffee and the faint sweetness of a house that had been tended in the night.

Mrs. Gregory sat at the small wooden table with a mug cupped in both hands. Her shoulders were wrapped ...