Lyra stepped quietly into the hallway after closing the door—her pulse steady, her mind sharper than it had ever been in her first life.
The pendant beneath her shirt rested warm against her skin, almost pulsing with her heartbeat.
She reached the bottom of the stairs just as Claudia's voice drifted from the living room.
"…she's acting strange. Unpredictable."
Mr. Vance sighed. "Teenagers act out."
"No," Claudia snapped, her tone tight with something more than irritation. "This is different. She's… cold."
Kira added in a low whisper, "And she doesn't listen anymore."
Lyra stopped just before the doorway.
Their voices lowered, but her hearing had sharpened—another quiet reminder that this life was not the same as her last.
"…if she keeps behaving like this," Claudia whispered, "we could have a problem."
Lyra felt a faint smile tug at her lips.
She was already a problem.
Mr. Vance's voice tightened. "Just keep her in line. She's always been obedient."
Claudia scoffed softly. "Not anymore."
Lyra stepped into the room.
All three froze.
Mr. Vance cleared his throat.
"Lyra. Breakfast is—"
"I already ate," Lyra said.
A simple sentence.
But Claudia's expression twisted—because Lyra used to wait for permission, wait for their attention, wait to be seen.
Not anymore.
Kira forced a smile. "Where are you going?"
Lyra brushed past her. "Out."
Claudia stiffened. "Out? For what?"
Lyra paused at the doorway, her back still turned.
"For my life."
The silence behind her cracked, sharp and brittle.
She didn't wait for their reaction.
She stepped out of the house.
---
The morning air was cool, crisp. Lyra walked down the street, letting the sunlight warm her skin.
Her senses felt different. Clearer.
She could hear distant footsteps.
Smell faint traces of perfume from three houses away.
Feel the shift of wind before it touched her skin.
Her powers were awakening.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Naturally.
The pendant pulsed, syncing with her breath.
Lyra reached the gate of the Vance house and stopped.
She glanced back.
Claudia stood behind the living room window, staring at her.
Not in irritation.
Not in anger.
In fear.
Claudia didn't know what Lyra was becoming.
But she sensed what mattered most:
Lyra slipping away.
And if Lyra slipped away…
so did the fortune Mira left behind.
The house.
The gallery.
The money.
The status.
The comfort.
Everything.
Lyra didn't need to see their panic.
She could feel it.
And it made her next step even steadier.
---
She didn't go far.
A small café sat two streets away—quiet, warm, unfamiliar. In her past life, she never had the time or freedom to come here.
She ordered a tea and sat by the window, watching the sunlight dance along her fingertips.
For a moment, she let herself breathe.
Then—
Her vision flickered.
Just for a heartbeat.
Not the world around her.
Her reflection.
The faintest shimmer in her eyes—silver bleeding into brown before fading again.
Lyra blinked, steadying herself.
Her powers.
Growing.
Awakening.
And responding to something deep inside the pendant.
A quiet hum vibrated against her chest.
Lyra whispered, "Mom… what did you leave for me?"
Her heart tightened.
She wasn't ready to open the journal yet.
Not emotionally.
Not mentally.
Not while the Vances waited for a mistake.
But soon.
A shadow fell across her table.
Lyra looked up.
Mr. Vance stood there, breath slightly uneven—he must've rushed after her.
"Lyra," he said, too calmly. "We need to talk."
She stared at him.
Not with fear.
Not with longing.
Just clarity.
"About what?" she asked.
He hesitated.
A hesitation she never saw from him in her first life.
"…about your behavior. And about certain… responsibilities."
Responsibilities.
Like handing over Mira's estate once she was old enough.
In her past life, she would've nodded immediately.
Now?
Lyra leaned back in her chair.
"I'm not signing anything."
Mr. Vance's expression flickered—shock, then realization, then something very close to fear.
Lyra sipped her tea.
Her powers warmed beneath her skin.
Her mother's pendant glowed faintly.
And Lyra smiled—calm, quiet, unshaken.
"I won't be controlled again."
Mr. Vance swallowed hard.
For the first time in his life—
he didn't know what to do with her.