The Vance house was too quiet when Lyra returned.
Not peaceful.
Not welcoming.
Just restrained—like everyone inside was holding their breath.
Lyra stepped through the doorway, her movements calm, unhurried.
Claudia immediately appeared from the dining room, hair perfectly styled, expression forced into something that might've passed for concern.
"There you are," Claudia said tightly. "You had us worried."
Lyra blinked once. "Did you?"
Claudia's smile cracked.
Kira peeked from behind her mother, eyes flicking over Lyra as if checking for something—anger, rebellion, guilt.
But Lyra's expression was unreadable.
Mr. Vance sat on the sofa, pretending to scroll through his phone.
He wasn't.
He kept glancing up, shoulders tense.
Lyra took in the room silently.
They weren't waiting for her.
They were bracing for her.
The realization lit a cold spark of satisfaction in her chest.
Claudia stepped forward. "Lunch is ready."
"I already ate," Lyra said.
Kira stiffened. She whispered, too loudly, "She never used to do that."
Lyra didn't correct her.
She simply walked past both of them, her steps soft but sure.
Mr. Vance stood abruptly.
"Lyra—can we talk?"
Lyra paused with her back to him.
"No."
His breath stuttered.
Kira's jaw dropped.
Claudia's eyes widened sharply.
Without waiting for another word, Lyra climbed the stairs.
Her heartbeat stayed steady.
Controlled.
Anchored by the warm pulse of the pendant against her chest.
The house could suffocate anyone weak.
But Lyra was no longer weak.
She closed the door to her room behind her.
---
Her room was still dim, sunlight filtered through thin curtains.
It felt like a small, quiet world—hers, and hers alone.
Lyra set her bag down and brought out the new phone she bought earlier.
She sat on the edge of the bed and opened a blank note.
A new beginning.
A different kind of plan.
She typed at the top:
SOLIN – Phase One
(Temporary name. Final name to be chosen later.)
She spread her notes out like puzzle pieces:
• Mira's hidden money
• Her own skills and memories
• Stocks she remembered exploding in her past life
• Trends she saw coming again
• Digital marketplaces
• Small-scale investments
• A potential online boutique
• Her mother's artistic legacy
• Her own supernatural intuition
Lyra stared at the screen, mind sharpening.
In her first life, she had no room to think.
Now?
She had room to build.
She began listing potential stock picks—her fingers moving with confidence she'd never shown before:
— KessTech
— NetSphere
— Eloan
— Saffron Med
— Parthex
She knew these companies would rise… later.
Not yet.
But soon.
Her pulse aligned with the pendant's glow as she typed.
Her supernatural sensitivity flared again—not painful, not overwhelming.
Just sharper.
Clearer.
As if something inside her aligned with every decision she made.
A quiet whisper in her instincts told her which investment would rise first.
She followed it.
Clicked.
Purchased.
Done.
Her first independent move.
She exhaled slowly.
Then—
A soft, nearly inaudible shift of air by the window.
Lyra went still.
She turned her head slightly.
No one was there.
Nothing moved.
But she could sense… something.
Not a presence.
Not a person.
Just a faint ripple in energy, barely noticeable.
The pendant warmed, a soft reassurance.
Lyra relaxed.
Her power wasn't dangerous.
It was awakening.
She closed the laptop and stood.
She needed fresh air.
And distance.
She opened the window slightly—and froze.
Kira stood in the backyard below, staring right up at her window.
Her expression wasn't anger.
Or annoyance.
It was something colder.
Jealousy.
Intense.
Burning.
Focused entirely on Lyra.
Lyra lowered the curtain slowly.
Then turned.
She wasn't threatened.
But she was done underestimating anyone in this house.
No one here was harmless.
Especially when they felt something slipping away.
---
Because Lyra wasn't slipping.
She was rising.
And everyone felt it.
Even if they didn't understand why.