The tires of Julian Croft’s Aston Martin shrieked against the wet asphalt as he abandoned the vehicle directly in the ambulance bay of St. Jude’s Medical Center. He didn't bother turning off the engine. He didn't bother shutting the door.

"Mr. Croft! Sir, you can't park here—" a security guard sho

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The rhythmic, mechanical sound was the first thing to penetrate the heavy, suffocating darkness. Nora Sterling did not want to wake up. The darkness was painless. It was quiet. It demanded nothing of her—no designs, no smiles, no perfect posture to mimic a dead woman.

But the

The snow fell over the Rue Saint-Honoré in delicate, crystalline sheets, blanketing Paris in a quiet, pristine white. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the newly minted *Maison de Nora*, the golden light of a hundred crystal chandeliers spilled out onto the freezing pavement, a beacon of