Morning came too fast.
The alarm went off at six, but Shyla was already awake, staring at the faint light breaking through the curtains. Her suitcase waited at the door, zipped and heavy. It felt like it had been waiting all night, just like her.
Downstairs, the smell of toast and coffee drifted up. Too ordinary for what she carried in her chest.
"Shy! Morning!" Nora's voice sang from the hallway, cheerful, bright.
Shyla sat up slowly, fingers brushing the locket still around her neck. Cold now. Silent. As if the night before had been nothing but a dream. "Morning!"
By seven, they were in the living room, bags stacked near the door. Lily was double-checking tickets, fussing over passports, reminding them about seatbelts and snacks. Nora twirled in her jacket, too excited to sit still.
Shyla stood near the stairs, eyes roaming the house one last time. The jacket still on the hook. The garden outside the window. The study door closed. Every corner whispered of her father. Leaving felt like ripping out threads that held her together.
Lily caught her looking and softened. "It's just a house, dear. Memories go with us."
Shyla nodded, but her chest tightened. She wasn't sure if that was true.
When the cab horn honked outside, Nora squealed and ran to grab her bag. Shyla lingered, palm brushing the banister her father used to lean on. For a second she thought she heard him—low laughter, distant, like memory trying to hold her back.
Her fingers curled into a fist. The locket thudded once against her skin.
"Shy," Lily called gently. "It's time."
She blinked hard, forcing herself to turn. With one last look at the house, she stepped out the door, heart heavier than her suitcase.
The airport was loud. Rolling suitcases, chatter, announcements over speakers and all of it blurred into a dull roar in Shyla's mind. She clutched her bag strap tighter, the locket pressing against her chest.
Nora skipped ahead, chattering about the flight, the new city. Lily followed more calmly, tickets and passports in hand, eyes scanning the crowd. And Shyla? She felt invisible, like the world was moving around her while she floated somewhere else.
Her gaze kept returning to the locket. Cold, then warm, then cold again, like it had its own heartbeat. She tried to shake off the feelings but couldn't help.
The line moved slowly. People brushed past her, children squealed, a man dropped a cup, coffee spilling onto the floor. Shyla's stomach churned. Every sound felt sharper than it should. Every shadow moved differently.
She noticed a man watching, or maybe she imagined it. He wore a dark coat, a cap low over his face. Her pulse spiked. No… stop. Don't start this. Not here, not now.
The locket throbbed again. Someone's here… or coming. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to take slow breaths. Nora tugged at her sleeve.
"Shy! Stop spacing out!"
"Yeah, yeah," Shyla muttered, eyes darting to the terminal doors. The flight boards flashed names, numbers, and gates. She couldn't focus. Her mind replayed the library, the shadow, the man with the mask, the pulse of the locket, and now there is someone her too.
She felt exposed, like someone could see her thoughts, her fears. Like the world wasn't just ordinary anymore.
Her hands clenched the strap of her bag tighter. "Just… get there. Just survive the flight." She tried hard to brush off the nervousness, but the locket throbbed against her chest, reminding her it wasn't so simple.
The line moved. The boarding pass scanned. The plane waited. And the locket pulsed, quiet now, almost patient, like it knew she would need it.
"Master, don't worry. He left… he is probably from BLUEMINES. They know you exist now. We have to be careful from now on," Leo whispered, the words dropping like stones.
Shyla froze. Her stomach sank. "Who… who the hell is BLUEMINES, now? Leo, you're not telling me everything. The moment you come, you're hiding things or lying." Her voice trembled, almost breaking.
Leo hesitated, quiet for a long moment. "I… I can't say everything yet, Master. Not until you're safe. Not until you understand."
Shyla's eyes filled with tears. Frustration, fear, and the weight of secrets pressed down on her. "You always say that… but I can't just… sit here while you decide what I can know!"
The locket warmed in her hand. A heartbeat against her chest. Almost like it understood. Almost like it was urging her to stay calm.
Her breath shook. She had no answers. She had no plan. Only the locket… and the feeling that everything had already changed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SOMEWHERE IN SHADOWS
In the darkened room, Ash's eyes narrowed.
"Master, we followed the lead. Alexander lived there with his wife and daughter… but he's dead," one man said.
"Dead?" Ash's voice was ice. "So, what about his daughter? I want her."
"Master… her name is Shyla Park," another whispered. "They're leaving for New York… I saw her at the airport."
Ash's lips curled into a cruel smirk. " Shyla Park," he hissed. "So… she exists."
He leaned over the map, tracing lines of old rumors, old debts, like a predator circling its prey. "Twenty years you've hidden, Alexander's line… but no more."
The chalice on the table caught the light. Ash's fingers tapped it sharply—a sound like a warning, like a heartbeat of menace. "Prepare. Soon… she'll be mine, to destroy."