CHAPTER 2: "The Room That Should've Been Mine."
Navira's POV
The hall is still painfully silent when Vivienne clears her throat and remembers she's the adult in this emotional circus.
"Navira, dear... let me show you to your room."
Her tone tries to be soft, welcoming, warm.
It mostly sounds like she's talking to a bomb she hopes won't explode.
Agnes immediately steps forward.
Of course she does.
"M-Mother," Agnes says, clutching Vivienne's sleeve. "Shouldn't she stay in the guest wing? I-I mean-she's new here and she might feel more... comfortable there."
Translation:
"Don't put her too close to me."
Vivienne stiffens.
Victor coughs.
Alden looks away.
Alastair stares at the wall like it committed a crime.
I place a hand gently over my suitcase handle and tilt my head in innocence.
"Oh, I don't mind," I say sweetly. "Wherever you put me is fine."
Agnes's smile twitches like a dying lightbulb.
Vivienne places a hand on her shoulder.
"Agnes, darling, Navira is your sister. She'll take the room next to yours."
And there it is.
Agnes freezes.
Alden inhales sharply.
Alastair looks like he just bit into emotional lemon.
I blink quietly.
Inside?
Delicious.
Agnes forces a trembling breath.
"O-Of course. That's perfect."
She looks like she wants to throw herself into a lake, but sure.
A maid scurries forward. "This way, Miss Navira."
As I follow her up the sweeping staircase, I feel their eyes on my back - curiosity, fear, guilt, confusion.
And Agnes's gaze?
It's a storm.
A messy, terrified storm.
When we reach the second floor, the maid stops in front of a tall door carved with gold vines.
"Your room," she says softly.
I open it.
And wow.
Okay.
Look, I've slept in a lot of miserable rooms in my life - tiny ones, shared ones, one with a weird stain on the ceiling that definitely watched me while I slept.
But this?
This room could fit the entire orphanage.
There's a chandelier made of actual crystals.
A bed big enough to house four people and their secrets.
Soft carpets that swallow your footsteps.
And a window overlooking gardens that look like they're maintained by gardeners with PhDs.
I step inside slowly.
"This is... beautiful," I say.
The maid smiles nervously. "It was prepared for you as soon as the news came."
As soon as the news came.
Meaning Agnes knew this was happening.
Meaning Agnes had time to panic.
Meaning this wasn't a surprise for her-it was a countdown.
A countdown to losing everything.
I walk toward the vanity, touching the polished wood.
Agnes's voice suddenly echoes from the hallway.
"Is she settling in okay?"
She sounds breathless.
Hopeful.
Afraid.
The maid opens the door wider and Agnes appears-puffy eyes, perfect hair slightly messy from crying, and the brothers right behind her like bodyguards.
Alden offers a gentle smile.
Alastair does NOT.
Agnes steps into my room, looking around like she's checking if I stole anything already.
"I... I hope it's okay?" she whispers.
It's perfect.
Obviously.
But I tilt my head delicately.
"It's more than I ever imagined."
Agnes flinches.
Alden sighs.
Alastair watches me with narrowed eyes, analyzing every move like I'm a puzzle he didn't ask for.
Agnes steps closer, wringing her hands.
"Navira... I want you to know I'm not trying to make this hard for you. I just- I'm scared. Everything is changing so fast."
She's playing the victim again.
Of course she is.
I give her the softest smile I can manage.
"I understand," I say. "If I were in your place, I'd be scared too."
Agnes sucks in a breath.
Alden subtly steps between us like he thinks I might break her legs.
Alastair crosses his arms.
And then-
Vivienne calls from downstairs,
"Agnes, Alden, Alastair - family meeting. Now."
Agnes turns pale.
Alden gently touches her back. "We'll sort this out."
Alastair glances at me once more, eyes sharp.
Then they leave.
The door closes.
Silence.
I look around the room again.
This was meant to be mine from the start.
And now?
It is.
Piece by piece, Agnes... I'm taking everything back.