Chapter 63 Shifting Shadows

• By midday, the estate’s tension had settled into something colder—collected, honed. The kind of stillness that only came before impact.
• Amara stood at the far end of the courtyard, speaking with Mira in low tones as the wind picked at the edges of her coat. She wore charcoal today—clean lines, sharp shoulders, a woman wrapped in command. Even the shadows beneath her eyes made her look more dangerous.
• Lucien watched from the upper balcony, arms folded, lips drawn in a line of quiet wariness. No new leads. No new breaches. Only silence. And silence was the most dangerous sound of all.