The soft Tuscan breeze blew through the open balcony doors, carrying with it the scent of rosemary and blooming jasmine. Grace stirred beneath the silk sheets, her eyes blinking open as golden sunlight spilled across the bed.
Nathaniel was already gone.
A note rested on her pillow.
“At the vineyard. Come find me when you’re ready.”
Grace stretched, muscles relaxed for the first time in months. No sirens. No cold metal bars. No burning guilt. Just peace. A fragile, quiet peace.
Or so she thought.
A Letter Lost in Time
An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in linen, Grace wandered into the villa’s study in search of her travel notebook. Her hand brushed the shelf, and the bookcase shifted.
A hollow clunk echoed.
Grace froze.
A hidden compartment?
She pressed against the wood
