Lyra let the curtain fall back into place, shutting out Kira's jealous stare.
The room fell quiet again.
But the silence wasn't comforting.
It was watchful.
She stood still for a moment, letting her breath steady, the pendant warm against her skin. The faint hum inside it pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, as if reminding her—
She wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
She stepped away from the window, intending to return to her desk—but a soft thud echoed from the hallway.
A footstep.
Barely audible.
But Lyra heard it as if someone had dropped a stone.
Her senses sharpened automatically.
She moved to the door and opened it.
Kira jerked back so fast she nearly tripped, her face flushing with guilt.
Lyra stared at her without blinking. "What do you want?"
Kira's lips parted, but no sound came out.
She looked… rattled.
More than rattled.
Uneasy. Afraid. Threatened.
"I—I was just passing by," Kira muttered, eyes darting to the floor.
Lyra stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her with deliberate calm.
"Then pass."
Kira swallowed hard and moved aside.
But she didn't leave.
Kira watched her with a mixture of envy and something darker, something that made her fingers clench nervously at her sides.
"You're… different," she finally whispered.
Lyra brushed past her. "Yes."
Kira blinked, unprepared for the bluntness.
Claudia's voice floated from downstairs, sharp and irritated.
"Kira! What are you doing up there?"
Kira flinched, then shot Lyra a quick, fearful look before hurrying down the steps.
Lyra descended after her with steady, unhurried steps.
Claudia stood at the bottom, arms crossed tightly.
"There you are," she snapped. "Why are you hovering outside Lyra's room?"
Kira hesitated. "I—I wasn't—"
Claudia's eyes narrowed. "Did you say anything?"
Kira shook her head violently. "No! She just… surprised me."
Claudia didn't believe her.
But she didn't press it—because Lyra was already walking down the last few steps.
Claudia switched on a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Lyra. We thought you were resting."
"I needed air," Lyra said simply.
Mr. Vance rose from the sofa, his posture stiffening.
"Are you feeling alright? You look pale."
Lyra blinked slowly. "Do I?"
He swallowed. "Yes."
She wasn't pale.
She was glowing—
but in a way that unsettled him.
Lyra turned away from all of them and stepped toward the kitchen.
Claudia followed.
"Lyra—wait."
Lyra stopped but didn't face her.
Claudia swallowed.
"You know, we only want what's best for you."
Lyra's fingers tapped once against the counter, calm and controlled.
"Is that what you tell yourself?" she asked quietly.
Claudia stiffened.
Kira shifted behind her.
Mr. Vance took a small step closer, as if preparing to intervene.
Lyra turned her head slightly, her voice soft but sharp:
"You're afraid of me now."
The room froze.
Claudia's eyes widened.
Kira flinched.
Mr. Vance's jaw tightened.
Lyra turned fully to face them.
"You don't understand why I've changed… but you feel it. That's enough."
The pendant warmed at her chest, as if echoing her words.
Claudia forced a shaky breath. "Lyra, you're imagining things—"
"No," Lyra said calmly. "I'm observing things."
Her gaze swept over them—Claudia's trembling fingers, Kira's clenched jaw, Mr. Vance's darting eyes.
"Fear," Lyra said softly, "is loud."
The three of them went still.
Lyra picked up a glass of water and turned toward the stairs.
"I'm tired," she said simply.
She left them in the kitchen, the air thick and suffocating behind her.
As she climbed the steps, she heard Claudia whisper, voice trembling:
"She's changing too fast. This isn't normal."
Mr. Vance murmured, "We'll just… have to adapt."
Lyra didn't look back.
She didn't need to.
The house was shifting around her—
and for once, she wasn't the one bending.
She reached her room and closed the door softly.
Her phone buzzed with a notification.
She glanced at the screen.
Your first investment has increased by +7.4%.
A faint, cold smile touched her lips.
She set the phone down and whispered—
"Mom… I'm just getting started."
The pendant pulsed warmly.
And the room—
her room—
felt less like a prison…
and more like the beginning of something she refused to lose again.