The party Mira had spoken of took place just two months before Lara's abduction—a memory now dulled by time but etched with emotional scars. It was a banquet at Marlon Norse's manor, thrown in honor of Mira's elder sister's debut into society.
Mira, only sixteen then and flushed with infatuation, had her heart set on one person: the son of the Duke of Silverstone—a striking young man with cold eyes and careless charm. Determined to catch his attention, she had dragged along her quiet, younger cousin, Lara, whose presence was more prop than companion.
When they entered the hall, Mira spotted him at the wine table, casually requesting a goblet from the attending waiter. Her pulse quickened. Eager to approach, she brushed too close to the table, her hand snagging the edge of the crisp white tablecloth. In an instant, bottles toppled, crystal shattered, and dark red wine bled across the floor like spilled secrets.
