A faint commotion outside broke the silence of the villa, not loud enough to be considered noise, but enough to disrupt the calm atmosphere. The stillness made the sound seem more prominent than it really was. Lilith opened the window to investigate and saw that Winona had returned. Behind her were only the driver and Joe, there to greet her. No one else. Winona had returned alone. Lilith closed the window and sank back into her blanket, picking up her book again. She wasn’t shocked by this—Winona had never been the type to seek out the company of others. Her name fit her well—beautiful and serene. She preferred the company of close family to socializing with strangers. Of course, that was just Lilith’s guess. She didn’t know much about anyone in the house. She could only draw conclusions from the fragments people shared with her. The door creaked open, and a breeze from outside blew into the room. Lilith looked up instinctively, catching sight of Winona as she stepped inside. The sunlight outside reflected off the glass, casting a soft halo around Winona’s face. Her features were delicate, like a quiet, hidden painting. She possessed a beauty that made Lilith feel self-conscious.Winona was still young—once she matured, she would likely become even more breathtaking. Lilith didn’t feel jealous, though. In fact, she wished well for everyone, even if their lives had no bearing on hers. Winona moved toward the bookshelf across the room and began searching for a book. She scanned the shelves for what felt like a long time, though it seemed like she wasn’t finding what she wanted. Slowly, she drifted closer, running her fingers over each row of books. Watching her search, Lilith thought it looked like a rather inefficient way to find something. Softly, she asked, “Do you need help with anything?” Winona didn’t respond immediately. After a pause, she glanced up, giving Lilith a silent but firm shake of her head. Lilith instantly regretted her offer and felt a flush of embarrassment. When they were younger, Lilith and Winona had been very close. Winona had been full of energy, her bright eyes and sweet smile making her look like an adorable little thing. She would follow Lilith everywhere, clinging to her hand like a devoted shadow. She would call her name sweetly, and whenever Lilith was sick, Winona would sit beside her, crying and hugging her, mimicking the gestures she had seen on TV, patting her stomach to help her sleep. Eventually, she’d fall asleep too, only to be carried away by an adult and tucked into her own bed. But as they got older, their bond started to fade. Perhaps it was the influence of others in the house, or maybe it was simply that Lilith wasn’t the easiest person to like. Whatever the reason, Winona gradually grew distant, becoming just another person who ignored her, indifferent and cold in a house that treated her the same way. As Winona neared, Lilith could hear her flipping through pages of a book. Lilith shifted her position, shrinking into the corner to make herself less noticeable. Yet, she still heard Winona’s sigh and the soft click of her tongue in annoyance. Unable to stand the tension, Lilith sat up, crouched low, and carefully opened the door. In her haste, she tripped slightly, but thankfully didn’t hurt herself too much. With the unfinished book still in hand, Lilith hurried out of the study, quickly descending the stairs. Just as she was about to step outside, she glanced back over her shoulder. At some point, Winona had left the study. She was now standing at the railing on the second floor, her gaze cold and distant as she watched Lilith below. Lilith sighed, thinking to herself, Next time, I’ll just take the book to my room. No need to linger in the study. Lilith moved through the house like a shadow, her life reduced to a monotonous cycle—reading, eating, and sleeping. She rarely interacted with anyone, had no friends, and nothing that truly sparked her interest. Her existence felt barren, and the few things she did were limited by the constant pain from injuries that had kept her from engaging in any real activities. The Joneses had placed restrictions on her life, and in response, she withdrew from almost everything, making her already empty life feel even more hollow. As a child, people had approached her with polite gestures, eager to befriend the daughter of the powerful Joneses. They saw her as someone of importance, but over time, they realized how little she mattered to the family. She became invisible—just another forgettable member of the household. Whether it was her plain appearance or unappealing nature, Lilith struggled to form meaningful connections, and the friendly gestures slowly disappeared. While adult relationships often carried hidden agendas, childhood friendships were simple—clear-cut likes and dislikes, sincere affection. It was a cruel truth how easily those bonds withered, leaving nothing behind. Thinking back on those times, a wave of sadness swept over Lilith, but it was quickly swallowed up by the steam and noise of the bathroom. She reached instinctively for the scar on the back of her neck, but her fingers found nothing. She touched again, searching for the familiar ridge, but there was only smooth skin. With all the lights on in the cluttered bathroom, she stood in the bright glow and faced the mirror, turning her head slightly to examine her reflection. It was gone. The scar that had once been so prominent had vanished. Her neck and back were smooth, with only a few droplets of water left from her shower. No sign remained that the scar had ever existed, not even the faintest trace. If it weren’t for the persistent pain that lingered in her memory, Lilith might have doubted the scar had ever been real. She vividly remembered the day it happened. She was eight years old, trying to protect Winona when a piece of glass fell from above, slicing through her neck and back like a razor-sharp blade. In that moment, she could hear the sickening snap of her bones breaking. She spent a long time in the ICU after that, the sharp scent of antiseptic constantly overwhelming her senses. She was aware of the people around her, talking and moving quickly, but her eyelids felt too heavy to open. She drifted in and out of what felt like an endless coma, unable to move or fully wake. In that fog, she had countless strange dreams. In every one, her figure was blurry, undefined. Blood pooled beneath her, flowing out like a dark river, and a crowd of faceless people surrounded her. She could feel their eyes on her, but their faces were obscured, like mere shadows. Whether they were crying or smiling, she couldn’t tell. The eerie vision terrified her, waking her from the nightmare. When she opened her eyes, Adrian and Catiana were sitting across from her hospital bed. The soft sunlight bathed them, casting faint shadows on their cold, emotionless faces. In that moment, Lilith realized that if the people in her dream had been clearer, their expressions would have likely mirrored the ones before her now—distant, detached, void of any warmth or emotion. There would never be any real connection. Wiping the last drops of water from her skin, Lilith once again touched her neck, now smooth to the touch. There was no scar, no sign of the stitches that had once marred her skin. Only a sense that a new story was beginning to take form.