10:20 PM. Vivienne’s Room. Carter Mansion.The house had settled into its usual night rhythm.Distant clinks from the kitchen.A door closing somewhere down the hall.The low hum of the generator kicking in and out like a steady pulse.Vivienne shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned back against it for a second.Not to rest.To listen.Nothing unusual.No footsteps lingering. No voices just outside the door.Still, she stayed there a moment longer, eyes on the handle, as if expecting it to turn.It didn’t.She stepped away.The shopping bags from earlier sat untouched on the chaise. Peach fabric peeked out from one of them, the color too soft, too harmless for what it had become.Armor, she had called it.The word lingered.Vivienne crossed the room slowly and set the Lawrence Holdings file on her bed.It looked ordinary.That was the most dangerous thing about it.A worn leather cover. Slightly frayed edges. No lock. No label that would make anyone curious at a glance.You could
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