The Vogue Intruder

The group was mid-laughter—Kira reenacting Roth’s dramatic drunken fall from the night before, complete with flailing arms and exaggerated sound effects—when the sound of footsteps cut through the morning buzz. Confident. Steady. A little too polished for island air.

Then came the voice.

Lyra?

Clear. Familiar. Just loud enough to slice through the low hum of conversation, commanding attention l