Freya's POV

The moment I step into the dining room, my mind still partially tangled in half-formed thoughts, the inviting scents of coffee and fresh bread greet me. It’s a pleasant contrast to the unusual sight awaiting me at the table, where curiosity quickly supplants any early morning comfort.

Two women sit there. The first is familiar—Isola, of course. She’s halfway through a bite, her ever-present energy radiating even in the mundane act of eating ...