The mansion was quieter than the university.
Not empty—never that—but settled, like it had learned to wait.
Ling stepped inside just before evening, the doors closing softly behind her. The familiar scent of polished wood and faint incense wrapped around her, grounding in a way the sterile corridors never could.
She removed her coat without help, hung it neatly, and walked in with the ease of someone who had been raised by these walls.
Dadi was in the sitting room, sunlight slanting through the tall windows, a shawl draped loosely over her shoulders. She looked up the moment Ling entered, eyes sharp despite the softness of age.
"You're back early," Dadi said.
Ling nodded and sat beside her, close enough that their knees touched. "I went to the medical university."
Dadi's brows lifted. "And?"
Ling exhaled slowly. "I'll join."
Dadi turned fully toward her. "Really?"
"From tomorrow," Ling added, voice steady. "As professor. As per your wish."
For a second, Dadi just stared at her.
Then her face softened, something like relief breaking through. "Tomorrow," she repeated, tasting the word. "You don't waste time."
Ling's lips curved faintly. "I never have."
Dadi reached out, placing her hand over Ling's. Her grip was warm. Firm. Real.
"Will you stay?" she asked quietly.
Ling looked down at their joined hands.
"Yes," she said. "I'll stay."
Dadi nodded, as if something heavy had finally been set down. "Good. This house breathes better when you're in it."
Ling didn't respond, but she didn't pull her hand away either.
After a moment, Dadi smiled mischievously. "So. Professor Kwong."
Ling groaned softly. "Don't start."
"I will absolutely start," Dadi said. "Do you know how many aunties I can silence with this?"
Ling huffed a breath that almost counted as a laugh. "You're impossible."
"And you," Dadi replied, squeezing her hand, "are finally where you belong."
Ling's gaze drifted toward the window, toward the fading light.
She didn't say what she was thinking.
That tomorrow meant walking into corridors again.
Into a place she believed she had chosen safely.
Into a role that required control, authority, distance.
She told herself it was manageable.
That she was ready.
That the past would stay where it was.
Dadi patted her hand gently. "Rest tonight. First days matter."
Ling nodded. "I know."
As she stood to leave the room, Dadi called after her, voice softer.
"Ling."
She turned.
"I'm proud of you," Dadi said.
Ling held her gaze for a long second.
Then she inclined her head slightly. "Good night."
She walked upstairs alone, the mansion quiet behind her.
Tomorrow, she would begin again.
And neither of them knew—
That tomorrow would begin with a name neither was prepared to hear spoken aloud.
The Nior mansion felt louder than usual.
Not with noise—but with presence.
Rhea stepped inside with her bag still on her shoulder, the door closing behind her with a familiar, hollow sound. She was already halfway through removing her shoes when she saw them.
Shyra.
For a second, Rhea didn't move.
Her sister stood near the center of the living room, hair tied back loosely, exhaustion written openly on her face. Eight months. That's how long it had been. Eight months since Rhea had last seen her. Since Amaya had been barely a year old.
And now—
Amaya sat on the couch, chubby fingers clutching a soft toy, curls falling into wide, curious eyes.
Rhea's breath caught.
Shyra looked up first. Her expression shifted instantly. Relief. Sadness. Recognition of everything unspoken.
"Rhea," Shyra said softly.
Rhea didn't answer.
She walked forward slowly, as if afraid the moment would disappear if she moved too fast. Amaya's eyes locked onto her face—and then lit up.
"Ninna!"
The word came out clear. Certain.
Rhea froze.
Her eyes filled before she could stop it. She swallowed hard, lips pressing together as she reached out.
"Ninna's here," Shyra said gently, lifting Amaya toward her.
Rhea took her without thinking, arms wrapping around the small, warm weight like instinct itself. Amaya laughed, tiny hands grabbing at Rhea's collar, her face pressing against Rhea's neck.
"Ninna!" she repeated, louder now, triumphant.
Rhea closed her eyes.
For the first time in months, she smiled—really smiled. It was small. Fragile. But real.
"Hi, my love," Rhea whispered, voice breaking despite her effort. "You've grown so much."
Amaya babbled in response, fingers tangling in Rhea's hair.
Shyra watched them, eyes shining but tired. "She asks for you," she said quietly. "Every time she sees your picture."
Rhea's throat tightened. "You didn't tell me you were coming."
Shyra sighed. "Things collapsed faster than expected."
Rhea looked up then. "Your husband?"
"Business fell apart," Shyra said simply. "We had no choice."
Rhea nodded once. She didn't ask more. She didn't need to.
Shyra sat down across from her. "You look… different."
Rhea adjusted Amaya in her arms. "So do you."
A pause.
Shyra's gaze softened. "You don't talk much anymore."
Rhea didn't deny it.
"Mom told. She still doesn't sleep properly," Shyra continued, quieter now. "She studies. She isolates. She doesn't argue. She doesn't cry in front of anyone."
Rhea's jaw tightened.
"I know," Shyra said. "Everything."
Rhea finally met her eyes.
"Then you know why," Rhea said.
Shyra nodded. "I do."
They sat in silence for a moment, Amaya humming softly between them.
Amaya suddenly patted Rhea's cheek. "Ninna."
Rhea smiled through wet eyes. "My baby. Ninna's okay."
Shyra watched closely. "You don't have to be strong with me."
Rhea looked away. "I don't know how to be anything else anymore."
Shyra leaned forward, voice firm but loving. "Then let her help."
Rhea hugged Amaya closer.
For the first time since everything broke—
She didn't feel entirely alone.
Outside, the evening settled over the mansion.
And somewhere far away, two lives were moving closer again—
Without either of them realizing it yet.