The following morning, the heavy news of the previous night's carnage at the docks had spread through Santos City like smoke from the still-smoldering wrecks.
Everyone in the household, with the notable exception of Amanda who remained buried in her usual late-morning slumber, had gathered for breakfast in the spacious dining area of Miss Claire's estate.
Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows draped with sheer curtains that softened the light into a warm, golden haze, illuminating the long mahogany table set with fine china, fresh fruits, warm pastries, and savory dishes prepared by the estate's efficient staff.
The air carried the comforting aromas of freshly brewed coffee, buttered toast, sizzling bacon, and herbal tea, creating a deceptively peaceful bubble amid the city's ongoing recovery.
Maids in crisp black-and-white uniforms moved quietly around the table, refilling glasses with orange juice or adjusting plates with polite smiles.
