Forty-eight hours after the daring Martha's Vineyard extraction, a profound, eerie silence settled over Blackwood Sanctuary. Before the proximity alarms shattered the silence of Blackwood Sanctuary, Maya had retreated to the second-story music conservatory. The grand room was warmed by a crackling stone hearth, its floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the churning ocean and the dense hemlock forest. Sitting with her vintage Montagnana cello between her knees, Maya drew the…
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