Cierra woke to the loud ringing of her phone. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she reached out blindly, found it on the nightstand, and pressed it to her ear.
"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Briefly, she almost drifted off again until her father's voice cut sharply through the line.
"Cierra."
Her eyes snapped open. She sat up at once, fully awake.
"Yes, Father."
Arthur Thorne's voice came through crisp and composed, carrying the same calm weight that filled every boardroom and interview he had ever dominated. "Cierra. I've arranged for a driver and two of my men to collect you from Aldridge within the hour. You will be flying home this afternoon."
"Flying?" she asked surprisingly. Yes, she had known that this call would come, but she hadn't expected it so soon. She rubbed her eyes.
"They have been informed," he said curtly. "Pack only what you need. The jet leaves at noon. Mr. Bob will coordinate everything."
She swallowed hard. "Father, wait. Are you—"
"We will speak when you get here," he interrupted, his tone softening just enough to sound like exhaustion, not care. "Be ready, Cierra."
The call ended before she could respond.
Cierra sat there, staring at her reflection in the black screen—her face pale, hair tangled, eyes rimmed with the fatigue of too little sleep and too many unspoken words. Her mind went back to the voice note from last night.
She remembered Leo's message word for word: "If anything happens to me, trust no one until you know why." So, he knew something was about to happen? She blinked away the tears clustering under her lashes, tugged the duvet off her body, and stepped out of bed.
Renee stirred in her bed, one arm flopping across her pillow. "Cee?" she mumbled, blinking groggily. "What time is it?"
"Early." Cierra replied, yawning.
Renee rubbed her eyes " Early as in midnight or sunrise ".
"Depends on who is asking " Cierra laughed softly and pushed herself from the bed.
Renee hissed in defeat and climbed out of bed too, but when she saw Cierra pulling out her suitcase, her brows knit in concern. "Are you traveling?"
"My father is sending people for me."
Renee's mouth fell open "Already? I thought you said you would—"
"I thought so too." She exhaled, brushing her hair back. "They will be here in an hour."
Renee studied her for a moment, then walked over. "You okay?"
"I don't know."
"Do you want me to help you pack?"
Cierra shook her head. "I will be fine."
The ginger-haired girl took that as a sign that she wanted to be left alone. She grabbed her towel and bath bag, then left the room to get ready for classes.
Cierra moved quietly through the room, folding a few things into the small black suitcase. By the time she zipped it shut, Renee was already back. Without a word, she walked over and wrapped Cierra in a hug.
"Text me when you land," she said softly. "And eat something, please."
"I will." Cierra smiled faintly. "Thank you."
"Cee?"
"Yeah?"
Renee hesitated. "You're not alone, okay? Whatever this is… you still have people."
Cierra nodded. "I know."
She wasn't sure she believed it.
An hour later, a sleek black sedan pulled up outside the dorm. Two men stepped out, both in pressed dark suits.
"Miss Thorne?" one of them asked, his voice professional and expression unreadable. "Mr. Arthur sent us to escort you to the airstrip."
Renee stood beside her, arms crossed protectively. "She's coming."
Cierra gave a small wave, forcing her lips into a smile. "I will call."
"You better," Renee replied. "And don't disappear again."
Cierra didn't promise. She just turned, stepping into the waiting car.
The ride out of Aldridge was long and quiet. The winter sun hung low, washing the roads in pale gold. Students moved across the campus lawns like fragments of another life.
The men didn't speak. Only the steady hum of the engine filled the silence. Cierra pressed her forehead to the window and watched the city slip past — the cafés, the bookstore where she and Leo once hid from a storm, the bridge that always glowed at sunset.
Everything looked ordinary and nothing felt it.
By the time they reached the private terminal, the world outside had turned to fog. The Thorne jet stood waiting, white and sharp against the grey runway. Its insignia — a golden T coiled around a falcon's wing — shimmered faintly under the morning light.
The cabin smelled faintly of cedar and cologne. A flight attendant greeted her with the same distant politeness she had grown up around.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Thorne. Mr. Arthur sends his regards."
Cierra nodded, saying nothing.
She sank into a seat by the window, clutching her phone in both hands. The engines hummed to life beneath her feet. As the plane rose, she looked down — the campus shrinking into a patchwork of roofs and trees until it disappeared completely.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she imagined Leo sitting across from her like before, teasing her for being afraid of takeoffs. That was years ago, when he and her mother had accompanied her to Aldridge for admission. Despite his busy schedule, he had still made time to help her arrange her dorm.
"Breathe, Cee. It's just a flight." Her fingers tightened around her phone.
Two hours later, the Bay Area came into view — a sprawl of silver and shadow beneath drifting clouds. The pilot's voice came through, calm and practiced: "We will be landing shortly."
Her pulse quickened. The car waiting on the tarmac whisked her away without a word.
The iron gates opened to the Thorne estate, and Cierra's chest tightened. The mansion rose ahead, just as she remembered it — vast, elegant, and cold. Pale stone walls gleamed faintly under the thin morning light, and mist clung to the sloping gardens like a veil. Rows of hedges framed the driveway in perfect symmetry, too precise to feel alive.
The fountain at the center rushed with water, its steady rhythm echoing faintly against the marble courtyard. She stared up at the windows as the car slowed to a stop. They reflected the sky, the courtyard— everything except warmth.
It was still home, but it no longer felt like it.