The Annual Ashford Gala. Your parents' triumphant return to society's good graces after the scandal that had nearly unravelled them.

The clock on the wall read 6:47 PM. For the third time in ten minutes, you checked your phone. No messages. No escape routes.

A soft knock at the door. Not the timid rap of a maid—firm, deliberate, two precise beats.

You stayed silent. Watched the shadow beneath the door shift.