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The sun hung low over the manicured lawns of Al Karma, casting long, sharp shadows that looked like obsidian blades. Inside her sprawling villa, stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, clutching a glass of water. Her hands weren't shaking, but her heart was hammering a rhythm of pure dread.

As the sirens wailed, the "Four Musketeers"—as they were known in school—were forced back into a tight, suffocating circle. The sun hung low over the manicured lawns

The reunion party was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, it had become a crime scene. stood by the floor-to-ceiling window