Lyra slept lightly.
Her dreams were fractured—pieces of her mother's face, the warmth of her voice, the cold bite of the river swallowing her whole.
When she opened her eyes, dawn light filtered through the curtains. Soft. Quiet. Deceptively peaceful.
She sat up, reaching instinctively for the pendant beneath her shirt.
Warm.
Steady.
As if it were grounding her.
Her gaze drifted to the closet—the wooden box tucked behind the blankets. Her mother's journal and letter waited inside.
But not today.
Today, the Vance household had already begun to crack.
Lyra stood and smoothed her hair. As she reached the door, she paused.
Something inside her sharpened—an instinct she didn't recognize before rebirth. A faint intuition, almost like the air itself shifted.
Someone was outside.
She opened the door.
Kira nearly stumbled backward.
"Oh—uh—" Kira straightened quickly, fake confidence snapping back into place. "You're awake."
Lyra didn't answer.
Kira crossed her arms. "Mom wants you downstairs. Now."
Lyra walked past her without a word.
Kira followed, chewing her lip. "Don't act like you didn't do anything. Mom was furious all night."
Lyra kept walking.
Kira's frustration simmered behind her.
"You used to listen," Kira snapped. "What changed?"
Lyra stopped at the top of the stairs.
Without looking back, she said quietly, "Everything."
Kira faltered.
Lyra descended.
---
Claudia stood in the living room, hair perfect but eyes lined with irritation. Mr. Vance was beside her, shoulders tight, a newspaper folded under his arm.
Both turned when Lyra entered.
Claudia spoke first. "Where were you last night?"
Lyra blinked once. "In my room."
"Doing what?"
"Existing."
Claudia's jaw clenched. "Don't be smart with me."
Mr. Vance stepped forward, holding the newspaper. "Lyra, there was a small gathering last night—you were expected to help prepare."
Lyra looked at him, calm. "I wasn't informed."
"That's not the issue," Mr. Vance pressed. "Your behavior has been unacceptable. Claudia says you've been—"
"Disrespectful?" Lyra finished.
Claudia lifted her chin. "Exactly. This attitude ends today."
Lyra lowered her gaze slightly, her tone almost thoughtful.
"So… when I speak, it's disrespect. But when you erase my mother, it's… what? Parenting?"
Claudia stiffened. "Your mother—"
"Is still my mother," Lyra said, voice razor-sharp.
Mr. Vance stepped in immediately. "Enough. No more of this Mira nonsense."
Lyra's expression didn't change, but her voice softened—dangerously so.
"You're the one who called it nonsense."
Claudia inhaled sharply, visibly shaken by Lyra's calm.
Kira hovered behind them, wide-eyed.
Mr. Vance ran a hand through his hair, irritated. "Lyra, this house needs harmony. You need to stop creating problems."
"Harmony?" Lyra echoed. "You mean silence. Mine."
The room froze.
Mr. Vance stared at her—really stared—as if seeing her for the first time.
"You're not acting like yourself."
"I'm finally acting," Lyra said. "That's all."
Claudia crossed her arms tightly. "I don't know what kind of phase you're going through, but it ends now. You will clean the living room. You will apologize. You will—"
"I won't."
Claudia's voice cracked. "You—what?"
Lyra stepped closer, slow and deliberate.
"You don't own me," she said softly. "You don't control me. Not anymore."
Claudia took a step back—instinctively.
Kira watched in stunned silence.
Mr. Vance's tone hardened. "Lyra. Enough."
Lyra turned to him, her expression unreadable.
"Did you ever wonder why Claudia always wanted me quiet?"
Mr. Vance blinked. "What does that mean?"
"She didn't like that I reminded her of my mother," Lyra said. "She didn't like that I existed before she married you. And she didn't like that I was Mira's daughter first… and hers never."
Claudia sucked in a sharp breath.
Lyra's voice didn't waver.
"Not once in my life did you stop her from pushing me aside."
Claudia couldn't speak.
Kira swallowed hard.
Mr. Vance stood frozen, silently absorbing every word.
Lyra stepped back.
"If you want harmony," she said, "start by looking at the person who destroyed it."
Claudia's face drained of color.
Lyra turned and walked away.
The pendant warmed against her chest, pulsing softly.
For the first time in this house's history, the Vances weren't sure what they feared more—
Losing control of Lyra.
Or seeing who she was becoming.