Chloe arrived in the early evening, just as the estate lights flickered on.
She came bearing gifts.
Two carefully wrapped boxes, expensive and intentional, cradled in her arms like peace offerings. She wore soft colors, a gentle smile—someone who belonged.
Albert let her in without comment.
"The twins are in the sitting room," he said.
"Perfect," Chloe replied.
Lyra and Rowan were seated side by side, quiet. Too quiet. Their heads lifted when Chloe entered, expressions polite—but guarded.
There it was again.
That distance.
"I thought I'd surprise you," Chloe said brightly, kneeling in front of them. "I saw these and couldn't resist."
She handed Lyra her box first.
Inside: premium sketchbooks, imported pencils, inks that shimmered faintly under the light.
Lyra's eyes widened—just a little. "They're beautiful. Thank you."
Chloe waited for more.
A hug. Excitement. Something.
It didn't come.
She turned to Rowan, offering his gift. A compact tech kit—advanced, rare, the kind that whispered I see you.
Rowan examined it carefully. "Thanks."
That was it.
Chloe sat back slowly, smile still in place.
"You've both been… quieter lately," she said lightly. "Is everything alright?"
Lyra exchanged a glance with Rowan before answering. "We're fine."
The lie was gentle. Worse than a sharp one.
Chloe's fingers curled against her palm. "You know you can talk to me, right? I've always been here."
Rowan stood. "We have homework."
Lyra followed him, carrying her gift but not looking back.
Chloe remained seated, the silence thick around her.
While Rowan gift sat on the table .
Her smile faded.
She looked toward the hallway where the twins had disappeared, her voice barely audible.
"She's changed something," Chloe murmured.
And for the first time, the thought crept in—cold and unwelcome:
Maybe love couldn't be bought back.
Maybe control, once loosened, didn't return.
Chloe stood, smoothing her clothes, putting the mask back on.
But her eyes were sharp now.
And afraid.