The moment Mr. Vance stepped back into the house, Claudia rushed toward him.
"Where is she?" Claudia demanded, voice pitched higher than usual.
Kira hovered behind her, eyes wide, wringing her hands.
Mr. Vance loosened his tie, face pale in a way neither of them had seen before.
"She refused," he said quietly.
Claudia froze. "Refused what?"
"The papers."
Kira gasped. "Dad—why would you even bring that up now?! She's already suspicious!"
"I didn't bring it up," Mr. Vance snapped. "She did."
Claudia's breath hitched. "She knows?"
"No," he said quickly. "She doesn't know anything yet. But she's different. She's sharp. She doesn't trust us anymore."
Claudia's knees weakened, and she steadied herself against the wall.
Kira whispered, "If she doesn't sign… we'll lose everything."
Her voice trembled—not in pity, but in panic.
The house.
The gallery.
The money.
The lifestyle.
The status they flaunted.
All tied to the girl they treated like an afterthought.
Mr. Vance exhaled sharply.
"We need to handle her carefully. One wrong move and she'll shut us out completely."
Claudia closed her eyes.
She finally understood the real danger.
Lyra wasn't rebelling.
She was awakening.
And awakened Lyra was something none of them knew how to control.
---
Lyra walked back home slowly, letting the cool breeze settle her thoughts.
She didn't return immediately.
Instead, she stopped at a quiet park bench shaded beneath a large tree.
She opened her phone.
A brand-new device.
She had bought it on her way home with money she saved quietly before her death in her past life—money she remembered hiding.
The Vances didn't know this phone existed.
Good.
She sat, fingers moving purposefully.
This life wouldn't be spent begging for scraps.
She would build her own foundation.
Step one:
Money. Real money.
She typed quickly—searching for the hidden email she had created long ago, an account she never got to use in her first life.
She found it.
Still active.
Still hers.
She opened it and scanned the old security messages.
A small smile curved her lips.
Her mother—Mom—had left behind more than memories.
Buried in that email was a set of encrypted numbers Mira wrote before she died.
Numbers she never explained.
But Lyra had always suspected they were tied to a bank account.
Not in the Vances' name.
In hers.
She pressed her palm against the pendant.
"Mom… you really prepared for me, didn't you?"
The pendant warmed—soft, encouraging.
Lyra inhaled.
Then she typed the numbers into a banking portal.
A loading screen spun.
Her heart thudded, steady and controlled.
Finally—
ACCOUNT FOUND.
Balance:
Not millions.
Not billions.
But enough.
Enough to start everything.
Enough to break free.
Lyra's lips curved faintly.
Not in delight.
In resolve.
She downloaded financial apps—tracking stocks, investments, market trends.
Her memories sharpened:
In her first life, she watched others succeed.
This time, she would be the one rising.
The wind shifted softly.
Her senses sharpened again, just like earlier that day—
that faint prickling at the edge of her awareness.
Someone was watching her.
But not from the Vance house.
Not someone familiar.
Lyra lifted her head slowly.
No one stood near her.
The park was nearly empty.
Yet the air felt… disturbed.
Like something brushed the edges of her consciousness.
The pendant pulsed once—warm, protective.
Lyra steadied her breath.
Whatever that sensation was, it faded just as quickly as it came—
a presence sniffing the air, then vanishing.
She put her phone away.
Enough for today.
Her independence had begun.
The Vances could pretend, manipulate, threaten—but it no longer mattered.
She had her mother's gift.
Her mother's money.
Her mother's legacy.
And her own power rising like a quiet tide.
Lyra stood.
As she walked back toward the Vance house, her shadow stretched long across the pavement.
A girl they once ignored now walked with something they couldn't name.
Confidence.
Clarity.
Coldness.
A queen waking in the dark.