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Night had already settled over Silver Ridge by the time Thomas returned home.
The estate glowed beneath warm exterior lights, towering windows reflecting the darkened gardens while servants moved quietly through the halls. From the outside, everything appeared exactly as it always had—orderly, untouched, normal.
The vehicle rolled to a smooth stop beneath the front entrance. Servants stepped forward at once. Thomas exited more slowly than usual, the doctors' assurances of stability still ringing hollow against the lingering weakness in his limbs. Days in the hospital had left their mark; his movements lacked their usual steadiness, exhaustion heavy beneath his skin.
Luna Winters stayed close beside him as they entered. Warm light spilled across polished floors the moment the doors opened.
Inside the main dining hall, Richard Winters and the other three brothers were finishing their meal. Conversation quieted the instant Thomas appeared.
