༇ CHAPTER THREE

By noon, the house was in chaos. Caterers bustled through the kitchen. Eleanor barked orders about flower arrangements. Thomas paced in his study, rehearsing what he'd say to his long-lost daughter.

I watched it all from the landing, my heart a stone in my chest.

At 2 PM, a car pulled up the driveway.

"She's here!" Eleanor shrieked, rushing to the door.

I descended the stairs slowly, each step feeling like walking toward my own execution. But this time, I knew what was coming and I was damn ready for it.

The front door opened, and there she was.

Aurelia.

She looked exactly as I remembered—delicate features, long dark hair, those wide, innocent doe eyes that had fooled everyone. She wore a threadbare jacket and carried a battered duffel bag, the picture of a girl who'd suffered through years of hardship.

It was all an act. Every bit of it.

"Mom? Dad?" Her voice trembled, perfectly calibrated to tug at heartstrings.

Eleanor sobbed and pulled her into a crushing embrace. "My baby. My sweet baby girl. You're finally home."

Thomas wrapped his arms around them both, his own eyes suspiciously wet.

And Aurelia's gaze found mine over their shoulders.

For just a second—so brief anyone else would have missed it—her mask slipped. Her eyes turned cold, calculating, triumphant.

Then she blinked, and the helpless victim was back.

"You must be Lyra," she said softly, pulling away from our parents. "I've heard so much about you. Thank you for... for taking care of my family all these years."

My family. Not our family. The distinction was deliberate.

Last time, I'd missed it. 

"Welcome home, Aurelia," I said evenly.

Eleanor beamed. "Come, darling, let me show you the house! We've prepared a room for you on the second floor…"

"Actually," Aurelia interrupted gently, "I was hoping... I mean, I know it's silly, but I always dreamed about having the room upstairs. The one with the window seat and the view of the garden." She bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "I used to imagine it when I was in those awful foster homes. But I understand if that's not possible..."

She was talking about my room. The room I'd lived in for twenty years.

Eleanor and Thomas turned to me with identical expressions of expectation.

"Lyra, sweetheart," Eleanor began, "would you mind—"

"Of course," I said smoothly, before she could finish. "I'd be happy to switch rooms, Aurelia. You should have the space you've always dreamed about."

Last time, I'd refused. I'd felt hurt and defensive, and it had created a rift that Aurelia had exploited masterfully, painting me as selfish and cruel for denying her this one small thing after everything she'd suffered.

But this time, I wouldn't give her that ammunition.

Eleanor looked shocked. "Really? Oh, Lyra, that's so generous of you!"

"It's just a room," I said with a smile. "Family is what matters."

Frustration flickered across Aurellia’s expression and I bvut bacak a smile. She had set a trap and I walked past it.

"Thank you," she murmured. "That's... really kind of you."

*****

By evening, I'd moved all my belongings to the smaller guest room down the hall. My arms ached from carrying boxes, but I didn't ask for help. I didn't want their pity or their praise.

I was hanging up the last of my clothes when I heard footsteps behind me.

"That was smart."

I turned to find Aurelia leaning against the doorframe, her innocent mask completely gone. In its place was something sharp and predatory.

"Giving up the room so easily. I know what you're doing," she said, moving closer. "Playing the martyr, thinking it'll make them love you more. But it won't work, Lyra. Because I'm their real daughter, and you?" She laughed softly. "You're just the charity case who stole my life for twenty years."

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm going to take everything from you. The family. Every single thing you think belongs to you. And by the time I'm done, you'll have nothing left. Just like I had nothing all those years."

I smiled and looked her dead in the eyes, “good luck with that.”"Good luck with that," I said quietly.

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I said good luck." I turned back to my closet, dismissing her. "You're going to need it."

I could feel her anger radiating behind me, but I didn't turn around. After a long moment, she huffed and left, slamming the door behind her.

Only then did I let out a shaky breath.

I walked to the mirror and stared at my reflection—this younger, softer version of myself who still had hope in her eyes.

"Never again," I whispered. "I won't be that girl anymore. I won't beg for their love. I won't try to please them."

My phone buzzed and I picked it up, smiling genuinely for the first time when I saw a text from my friend Maya.

Girl, where have you been? Haven't heard from you in days!

It was around this time in my last life that I started pulling away from her…because Eleanor had convinced me she was a bad influence and I never hesitated to do literally anything to please them.

But even as I had pushed her away she stood by me all through my years of torment…supporting me in my own little ways.

I typed back quickly: I’m sorry I’ve been so busy but I’ll make it up to you. Want to hit Midnight Den tonight? I need to blow off some steam.

Her response was immediate: FINALLY! Yes! Pick you up at 10?

Perfect.

I set down my phone and looked at myself in the mirror again.

This was my second chance. My do-over. And I wasn't going to waste it trying to earn love from people who would never give it.

The moon goddess gave me a chance and one of the things I'm going to do right this time, is to live for myself for once…and I’m going to take back every single fucking thing this family took from me…everything that was rightfully mine.