It was a quiet evening at the Whites' mansion. As though the very walls held their breath. In the east wing, the sunroom glowed with filtered golden light that spilled over white linen and polished marble. Servants scurried preparing fine china, silver platters, and red roses for what would be, in appearance, a simple mother-daughter dinner.

Chloe sat with her fingers twisted on her lap, she had just lost her appetite.

Yet, under the glow of opulence, a storm brewed.

Erica smoothed the folds ...