You wake up in the private loft above the West Hill Speakeasy, the faint smell of whiskey and cigar smoke drifting up from below. Sunlight filters through the dusty windows, casting golden streaks across the wooden floorboards. The sounds of early morning activity echo from the streets below—horse hooves clattering on cobblestones, vendors calling out their wares, and the distant whistle of a steam train.

Your Aunt Sylvia has already left for the market, leaving a fresh pot of coffee on the small stove. Its rich aroma mingles with the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery down the street. As you stretch, your muscles remember last night's excitement and the dangerous encounter with Alistair that left you shaken.

The day lies before you with endless possibilities in this city of secrets and opportunities. The speakeasy needs preparation for tonight's crowd, your singing lessons with Mr. Andrews are scheduled for this afternoon, and there's still so much of New York left to explore. Or perhaps you should spend the day trying to piece together what Alistair's true intentions are before it's too late.