Nathaniel sat at his desk, the faint glow of the lamp casting a warm light across the piles of reports he hadn't bothered to read. His gaze wasn't on them anyway—it was fixed on his hands, more precisely, on the faint memory of how they had both rested against the cold surface of the ancient stone.
He told himself there was a reason he touched it, but the truth gnawed at him. He had no explanation. Not a logical one, at least. Why had he done it? What had driven him in that split second to follow Lila's lead? Was it curiosity? Instinct? Or something far more dangerous—something like wanting to be closer to her?
The thought unsettled him. He shook his head sharply, brushing the idea away before it could take root. No. Impossible. Lila was… she was like a sister to him. Someone under his protection, not a woman he should be thinking of in any other light.
"Boss?" Lila's soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She had been standing there for a while, watching the crease form between his brows.
Nathaniel cleared his throat, straightening in his chair, as though she hadn't caught him in such a vulnerable moment. "It's nothing. Just work."
Her curious eyes lingered on him, searching. "Are you sure? You seemed… far away."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't concern yourself with that. What matters is our mission. It's dangerous—more dangerous than what we've faced before. And I want you to carry it out."
Lila tilted her head, as if weighing his words. For anyone else, such a command would have sounded harsh, but she had learned to read between his tones. He was worried—more than he wanted to admit. Yet instead of showing fear, a small smile tugged at her lips.
"Another interesting mission then," she said, her voice light with determination. "Don't worry, Boss. I'll handle it."
And with that, she turned and bid him goodbye, her footsteps soft against the floor. Nathaniel sat back, watching her go, a storm of questions still swirling inside him. Why did he care so much? Why did he touch that stone? But he refused to dwell on it any longer. Duty came first.
---
By the time Lila got home, the familiar sounds of her family filled the small house—clattering dishes, voices overlapping, the smell of food still lingering in the air. She stepped inside quietly, but it was too late.
"Where have you been?" Daniel's voice cut through the room before she could even shut the door.
Ethan joined in, arms crossed, suspicion painted across his features. "Don't tell me you were with some boy. You're not answering calls, not sending messages. What exactly are you hiding, Lila?"
Their mother, who had been pacing the room with worry, turned sharply to them. "Enough, both of you. You didn't even ask if she's all right. All you care about is where she went, not how she is."
"She should still answer us," Daniel muttered, but quieter now, as though their mother's scolding had clipped his edge.
Lila stood frozen, her bag hanging from her shoulder, the weight of their words pressing on her chest. She wanted to scream that she wasn't a child anymore, that she was capable of handling herself. Instead, she just nodded stiffly and whispered, "Goodnight."
The word was colder than she intended, but she couldn't help it. Without waiting for another argument, she retreated to her room. Behind the safety of her closed door, she leaned against it, feeling the familiar heaviness settle in her chest. Sometimes she wondered if anyone really saw her—not the reckless girl her brothers imagined, not the fragile daughter her mother defended—but the real Lila. The one carrying secrets she couldn't share.
She pushed the thoughts aside, changing into her nightclothes and crawling into bed. Sleep didn't come easily, but eventually exhaustion pulled her under.
---
The next day at school, the classroom buzzed with chatter until their class teacher entered, the atmosphere instantly shifting. He placed a stack of papers on his desk and adjusted his glasses before speaking.
"Starting Monday, you will all sit for your exams. I expect everyone to prepare thoroughly. And that includes those who have been ranking at the bottom of this class. This time, there will be no excuses."
He didn't need to say her name. The slight pause in his sentence, the way some heads turned toward her—it was enough. Lila lowered her gaze, pretending she hadn't noticed. She was used to it by now.
As soon as the teacher left, Samantha wasted no time strutting toward her. The smirk on her face was as sharp as her voice.
"So, you think just because you answered one question right in class, you're suddenly a genius?" she sneered, her friends snickering behind her.
Lila had so much on her mind that Samantha's words barely registered. She simply picked up her books, stood, and walked past her as though she hadn't heard.
The silence that followed was louder than laughter. For Samantha, being ignored was worse than any insult. Her pride burned as her eyes narrowed on Lila's retreating figure. "She'll regret that," Samantha muttered under her breath.
---
That afternoon, Lila found herself in the bustling marketplace, the hum of voices and vendors' calls surrounding her. She had been saving carefully, and with the money given to her after saving the old man, she was finally ready. A laptop—that was what she needed. Not just for schoolwork, but for herself, a tool to prove that she was capable of much more than others believed.
She approached the store, her heart beating a little faster with excitement, when a voice sliced through the air behind her.
"Well, well, look who we have here."
Lila froze. The tone was mocking, female, dripping with venom. "The poor, helpless girl has come to price things she can't afford. Or maybe she doesn't even have the money to buy them at all."
The words struck something deep inside her chest. Slowly, she turned, her eyes narrowing as her gaze landed on the woman leaning casually against the store's entrance. The smirk was familiar. Too familiar.
Memories, not of this life but of the old Lila's, surged forward. She knew that face. That voice. This wasn't just Samantha, the schoolyard tormentor. This woman was worse—sharper, more dangerous, and far more cruel. She had been a shadow in Lila's old life, always waiting to strike, always making her existence unbearable.
A chill ran down Lila's spine. Her hand instinctively tightened around the strap of her bag. She had hoped never to see her again, but fate had different plans.
And this time, she wasn't sure if walking away would be enough.