The studio smelled of linseed oil, turpentine, and the ghost of last night’s rain. Sunlight slanted through the high north windows, catching on half-finished canvases and the dust motes that danced like slow fireflies. Ahmed had been up since dawn, scraping cadmium red from a palette knife, trying to

The house in Defence Phase 3 was never quiet on Fridays. Laughter spilled from the drawing room, thick with the scent of Cuban cigars and aged Scotch. Nadia, eighteen in the summer of 1993, had learned to navigate the chaos like a cat through tall grass. She knew which uncles