The morning sun filtered softly through the cream-colored drapes, drawing a thin line of gold across the sheets. Rebecca's eyes opened slowly, her chest rising with a deep breath that didn't feel quite full. The air in her room at the DeLuca mansion was warm, quiet, almost too still — like the house itself was unsure what to do with her.

She lay there for a moment, watching the way light curled across the floor, touching the edge of an old vanity she'd once used daily. So much had changed, ...