The morning air was sharp and cool, biting against Lila's skin as she jogged down the narrow street. Her breath puffed out in steady clouds, her footsteps falling in rhythm with the stray dogs barking behind fences and the occasional car rumbling to life in the distance.
Behind curtains, neighbors peeked at her as though she were a spectacle.
"Isn't that the fat girl from the Lewis family?" one woman whispered.
"What's she doing running this early?" another muttered with disdain.
Lila ignored them. Their words were meaningless. She wasn't the timid Lila they thought they knew. Beneath this fragile shell lived Laura—the assassin once feared in every corner of the dark web. The instincts were still alive inside her, sharper than ever.
By the time she returned home, her shirt clung to her back with sweat. Her mother was already in the kitchen, the smell of eggs and bread thick in the air. Daniel sat at the table, flipping through bills with a deep frown. Ethan leaned against the counter, sipping tea.
None of them commented on her jogging, though Daniel's frown lingered when he noticed her sweat. Lila caught it, storing the reaction away silently. Good. Let them see she wasn't the same anymore.
At school, the chatter in the hallways carried the usual notes of laughter, gossip, and footsteps. Lila walked through it quietly, her senses tuned sharper than anyone could imagine.
Samantha and her shadows, Chloe and Maya, leaned against the lockers like predators waiting to strike. Their painted smiles curled as they whispered.
"Where the hell is she?" Samantha hissed.
"Probably hiding," Chloe laughed.
"Coward," Samantha spat. But her eyes lit up when Derek and his crew swaggered past. A folded bill changed hands, and Derek's grin stretched wide. The deal was made.
By lunchtime, the cafeteria was buzzing. Lila sat alone at the edge of the room, her tray untouched. Her instincts prickled before she even saw them. The sound of heavy steps, Derek's grating laugh—wolves circling their prey.
"Well, well," Derek drawled, slamming his tray beside hers. "Thought we'd remind you of your place."
The room fell into a hush. Samantha and her girls leaned forward, eager for a show.
Lila lifted her gaze slowly. Calm. Steady. "My place?" she said softly. "Funny. I didn't know garbage had assigned seats."
Gasps rippled. Derek's smirk twitched. Kyle lunged forward, but before his fist could rise, Lila moved. Her hand shot out, twisting his wrist, and with one precise shift of weight, she sent him crashing onto the table. Plates clattered, food scattered.
Derek roared and charged. She pivoted smoothly, her foot snapping out in a clean arc. He hit the floor, air knocked from his lungs. Ben froze where he stood, wide-eyed, hands half-raised.
"I—I didn't sign up for this," he stammered and stumbled back.
The cafeteria buzzed with whispers.
"Did you see that?"
"That was Lila Lewis!"
"No way… she moved like—like a fighter."
The spell broke when the sharp voice of Ms. Green cut through the noise. "Enough!" Her glare swept over the mess. "All of you—detention. Now."
Hours later, Lila sat in the quiet detention room, tapping her pencil lightly on the desk. Derek kept shooting her looks from across the room, but every time her calm eyes met his, he looked away. He couldn't forget how easily she had thrown him down like he was nothing.
That evening, tension brewed at home. Their living room felt stifling as her mother stood with folded arms, Daniel pacing behind her, Ethan lounging near the window.
"I got a call today," her mother said tightly. "They said you were caught fighting at school."
Daniel's voice rose. "Lila, what's wrong with you? Do you want to bring shame to this family? We're already struggling, and now this?"
Ethan smirked faintly. "At least she's not letting them walk over her anymore. You should've seen how pathetic she looked before."
"Shut up, Ethan," Daniel snapped. "This isn't about your entertainment."
Her mother sighed, her face weary. "Please, Lila. I just want peace. I can't take more trouble… not after what your father left us with."
Lila bowed her head. "I understand," she said softly.
But inside, her heart was steel. No. You don't understand at all.
That night, she sat alone in her room, shadows stretching long across the walls. Closing her eyes, she heard him again—her master's voice.
"Fear makes you slow. Anger makes you reckless. Calm… calm makes you lethal."
He had shaped her into what she was. She had never seen his face, but she knew every tone of his voice, every cold lesson etched into her soul. Somewhere along the way, admiration had twisted into something deeper, something dangerous.
Her chest ached. "Master," she whispered. "Would you even remember me?"
Her phone buzzed suddenly. She swiped the screen and froze.
Breaking News: Infamous Assassin Black Diamond Confirmed Dead.
Her old body, Laura, crumpled on the ground. Headlines, commentators, strangers rejoicing at the death of a ghost. The world believed she was gone.
Her hands trembled. Forgotten. Erased.
Then another notification blinked. A message.
Unknown Number: You can't run from who you are, Black Diamond.
The phone slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the bed.
Her blood turned cold. Someone knew.
And they were watching.