The maid picked the room to the left of the master suite. Lorna thought it over and settled into the one on Daisy's right.
With a private estate, keeping any pet she wanted was no longer an issue. Tangbao could finally walk around in the open without anyone worrying about traumatizing Manhattan's elite. Daisy let him roam free—sleep indoors if he wanted, live in the woods if he preferred.
As for the ever-docile rhino, he chose the garden as his domain. Daisy repeatedly warned him: if she caught him eating the flowers, there'd be consequences.
The villa was massive, and daily cleaning and cooking posed a real challenge. Fortunately, a professional home-services company catered specifically to Long Island's wealthy residents.
Daisy hired three housekeepers, two groundskeepers, and two chefs. Given the abundance of private belongings, she designated zones: the first floor was open to the cleaning staff; the second floor was strictly off-limits, secured with infrared scanners and eventually slated for AI integration. No clearance, no entry—alarms would sound.
All the three of them had to do was keep their own rooms tidy.
The home-services company also offered bodyguard and chauffeur packages. Daisy hired two brawny-looking bodyguards and a driver.
"Those guys don't have much combat ability." The maid, now effectively upgraded to butler, was unimpressed with her new subordinates.
"Window dressing," Daisy said with a smile. "Having no bodyguards at all just doesn't look right."
While the maid grumbled, Daisy was busy admiring her new car—a silver-gray Porsche Carrera GT. This model was arguably Porsche's definitive masterpiece, capable of hitting 200 km/h (about 124 mph) from a standstill in under ten seconds.
Its top speed could reach 330 km/h (roughly 205 mph).
Outstanding performance, sleek futuristic styling—and compared to the villa's astronomical price tag, the car was practically pocket change at 400,000 euros.
Her old Chevrolet, the kind only S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would drive, now belonged to the maid.
Between the move and purchasing every conceivable necessity, the days blurred together. A full week had passed since the emergency landing before she realized it.
Everyone was gradually adjusting to Lorna as the newest member of the household.
Just before bedtime, Lorna hesitated at Daisy's door, then edged inside. She had a mountain of questions for this person who was like her.
The master suite was enormous—this was her first time actually stepping inside. The single bedroom was bigger than the entire apartment she'd shared with her mother and stepfather. Even with the maid's help tidying up, Daisy's room was still a spectacular mess.
Clothes tossed haphazardly. Two handguns discarded right next to her underwear. Programming textbooks, electronic devices, and gadgets lay in chaotic heaps. Only the sword, shield, and armor forged from adamantium were arranged with any semblance of order.
Daisy was currently writing the supercomputer's master operating program. Stark Industries included a stock main program, but that was more of a reference than anything usable—every country and major research lab that actually purchased a supercomputer wrote their own control software.
"What's up?" At home, Daisy didn't bother with appearances. Baggy pajamas, hair pinned up in a loose bun, she sat cross-legged on the bed typing away.
Lorna craned her neck for a peek at the screen. Utterly incomprehensible.
She asked hesitantly, "So... you're my guardian now?"
Daisy swiftly wrapped up what she was working on and looked up, expression serious. "Yes."
Lorna lowered her voice, as if terrified someone might overhear. "Then you're... like me? One of those people?"
She still couldn't face what she really was. She was using "those people" as a stand-in.
Daisy couldn't exactly explain the distinction between mutants and Inhumans to a child. Tell her that mutant genes came from the father while Inhuman genes typically came from the mother? Lorna's head would explode with question marks.
To bolster the girl's sense of belonging—to show her she wasn't alone—Daisy kept it vague. "Something like that."
Isolation was a terrifying thing, and the research backed it up. Studies showed that when people discovered they were fundamentally different from everyone around them, only a tiny minority felt happy about it. Most people needed community. Humans were social animals—being cast out of your group triggered devastating psychological damage.
Hearing Daisy personally confirm they were the same kind, Lorna looked as though a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She let out a long, slow breath.
Then something else occurred to her, and she asked curiously, "So what's your power? That mental communication thing?"
"Oh, no." Daisy shook her head. Her psychic ability was too feeble to brag about. "The telepathy is just a minor offshoot I developed."
"My actual power is this." To give Lorna a clear demonstration, she tapped a finger lightly and manipulated the gravity around the girl, letting her float gently into the air.
"Ahhh—!" Hovering in midair startled her at first, but curiosity quickly overtook the shock.
"You're amazing! Can I do that too? What kind of power is that?" She peppered Daisy with a rapid stream of curious questions.
Daisy tried to explain but gave up after two sentences. Lorna's foundational knowledge was simply too lacking—talking to her about gravity and magnetism was completely pointless at this stage. Whether mutant or Inhuman, early-stage power usage didn't require much scientific understanding, but mastering it demanded serious study.
Lorna needed structured education. Unfortunately, Professor Charles was still out in America's heartland on a recruitment drive. Daisy could learn on her own just fine, but teaching from scratch? She didn't have the patience for that.
Her plan was to wait for Professor Charles to return and discuss it then.
She amused Lorna with a bit more gravity play, then sent her off to bed.
The next morning, Daisy pushed open the window in her pajamas and gazed out at the majestic view—sea and sky merging seamlessly at the horizon. She couldn't help but sigh.
Tony Stark stepped out his front door to the Pacific. She opened her window to the Atlantic. When you thought about it, they weren't really that different.
After a professionally prepared breakfast, Daisy suggested they all go swimming.
None of them were the timid type. Nobody suggested the pools out front. Their target was the ocean itself.
While changing into swimwear, Daisy noticed something—something she'd been overlooking this entire time. Her eyes traveled up and down, appraising. "Lorna, how old are you?"
She'd assumed Lorna was a little girl, but now she could see the kid was still firmly in the "big child" stage. Nice skin, sure, but flat as a board, rail-thin. Daisy's exacting gaze scrutinized her for a good while without detecting much in the way of curves.
"I'm twelve!" Lorna's face flushed crimson. Even she could decipher the meaning behind Daisy's odd stare. Comparing herself to Daisy and the maid, she silently fumed: Just you wait until I grow up—I'll outgrow both of you!
If Daisy could've read Lorna's mind, she would've laughed. Future Lorna wasn't exactly what you'd call voluptuous either—not entirely flat, but "curvy" would be a generous stretch.
"Twelve? You're sure?" Daisy was genuinely incredulous. Twelve years old and that's it? You're a seriously late bloomer.