Chapter 5 – What We Owe to Silence

Cassandra

I haven’t slept.

I stayed there, on the floor, my cheeks burning and my fists clenched. The scene plays on repeat in my head: Lyra, that ungrateful one, that shadow I always thought I could control, slapping me in front of my parents. And now… a woman in pearls and heels, bodyguards, a luxury car. And Lyra, in her arms.

It can’t end like this. Not like this.

So I lift my head and stare at the man standing in my shabby living room. He has that look of someone who doesn’t tolerate “no.” I recognize that kind of man. They have everything. And they want everything.

But I know how to play too. I’ve always known.

— If you want to get Lyra back, I whisper with the calmest voice I can muster, you’ll need to reimburse us. Ten times what we spent on her. No, a hundred times.

My parents gasp. My mother shoots me a shocked look, but I don’t pay attention. I can see that this man has the means. So I might as well take advantage of it.

But he strikes me with a gaze so cold that I lose a heartbeat.

— Your appetite knows no bounds, he says sharply. I can free you from your debts. From your usurious loans. I know everything, Cassandra.

I pale.

— But don’t get your hopes up. The amount you owe far exceeds a hundred times the cost of Lyra’s education. And you will receive nothing. Not a penny. As long as you haven’t signed this agreement.

He pulls a document from his pocket. He holds it out. His calm is unyielding.

— You sign here, he says, and you cut all ties with Lyra. You promise never to contact her again. You disappear from her life.

I freeze.

I think of my seized car. My creditors. That guy who has already threatened me with a knife. I think of the days to come. And I panic.

I take the pen. And I sign.

Without a word. Just a small crack in my chest. Perhaps a remnant of pride.

But it’s too late.

Lyra

Everything happened too fast.

I barely understood what Cassandra was saying. What that man, my father— that word feels unreal— replied to her. The document. The signature.

I can’t feel my legs. I feel like I’m floating.

My biological mother— she says I’m her daughter, she has the same eyes as me, how could I not see it?— gently takes my hand.

— My dear, go prepare your things. We’re going home.

I shake my head.

— I won’t take anything, I say in a hollow voice. I don’t want to keep anything from this place.

She holds me close. Her voice is soft, but full of a strength I’ve never known.

— Very well. We will start from scratch.

Scratch.

That’s what I’ve always been, here.

So yes. I am ready.

I follow her without a word. I get into the car. The leather smells of lavender. The windows are tinted. Everything feels muffled. Far from the smell of dust and mildew that I’ve carried for so long.

I take one last look at the gray and dirty building, at the crumbling façade, at the cracked walls. At this prison without bars that was my "home."

And I have no regrets.

As the car drives away, my mother keeps my hand in hers. She gently caresses it, as if she wants to make up for the lost years with simple gestures.

— We searched for you all these years, she whispers. Even when everyone told us to move on. Your father hired detectives, searched in dozens of countries. And then there was that name… Cassandra. And that address. We knew it was you.

I lower my eyes. My throat tightens.

— I don’t remember anything, I say. Nothing before I was six.

— You were only three when you disappeared, she breathes. We think your nanny took you… We never knew why. She was found dead years later. And you… you had vanished.

She falls silent. I hear her tears fall on her dress. I don’t know what to say. So I murmur, not understanding why myself:

— I often dreamed… of a white piano. Of a room with blue curtains. And a dog… a Labrador.

She bursts into sobs.

— That was our home. All of it. It was our home.

I close my eyes. The emptiness begins to fill.

Not far away, another car cuts through the road.

Alexander

I'm driving like a madman.

My heart is racing. My fingers grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

My assistant finally found the address. Cassandra Lefèvre. A certain "sister." A fragile lead, but it’s all I have. And if I don’t see her today, I feel like I will lose her.

She obsesses me. Her absence has emptied me. I can’t sleep anymore. I can’t live anymore.

And then suddenly, at the red light, my heart stops.

I see her.

In a black car, just a few meters away.

It’s her.

Lyra.

She doesn’t see me.

I immediately turn at the next intersection. A sharp turn. I accelerate, blood boiling.

But hardly have I taken the street when the impact strikes me.

Another car runs a stop sign and collides with me head-on.

I don’t have time to comprehend. My body hits the windshield. My head strikes violently. A dull pain. Blood. Distant screams. The horns blend into the crash.

Everything becomes blurry.

In a final flash of consciousness, I think of her. Of her eyes. Of her voice.

Don’t go. I will find you.

Lyra

The noise is dull, brutal. I flinch.

The driver slows down. Leans in, looks in the rearview mirror.

— It seems there’s been an accident behind us, ma’am.

I turn my head a little. Flashing lights. A crowd.

I frown.

A pang. A discomfort, without knowing why.

— I hope he’s okay… I murmur.

Then I fall silent.

Not knowing that, already, fate begins to weave its threads again. That this is not the end.

Just… the beginning of something else.