The car slowed as the road turned from cracked city pavement to smooth, private asphalt lined with towering old trees. Security gates parted without question, and the air shifted.
Everything beyond this point was another world.
Isabella sat upright in her seat. The luxury car her adoptive parents had borrowed for this one-time escort rolled to a gentle stop in front of an estate unlike anything she'd seen before. Massive wrought-iron gates, trimmed hedges sculpted with unnatural precision, and a mansion that looked more like a palace than a house.
A maid stepped forward to open the car door.
Arthur Lin looked back at Isabella from the front seat. "Well," he muttered, "this is where you get off."
Fiona didn't bother turning around.
Amelia was scrolling through her phone again, not a single goodbye in her.
Isabella opened the door herself.
She didn't say thank you. Didn't glance back.
She stepped out and onto the marble-tiled front steps of the Lin family estate.
The real Lin family.
Inside, the tension was palpable.
Clarissa Lin paced near the grand staircase, wringing her hands, while Edward stood with arms crossed, trying to mask the weight of two decades of guilt. The five Lin sons had gathered in the main lounge nearby—each of them silent, alert, and strangely unsure.
They had prepared for this moment for weeks.
But nothing could prepare them for the actual arrival of the daughter and sister—they had lost.
Clarissa was the first to see her.
She stilled mid-step, breath catching in her throat.
The girl who entered through the foyer was not the baby she remembered.
Tall, poised, too beautiful in an unsettling way—Isabella looked like she didn't belong to anyone. Like she'd never needed anyone to begin with.
Their daughter.
But nothing about her said family.
"Isabella?" Clarissa's voice cracked.
Isabella looked at her, unreadable.
"You must be Clarissa Lin," she said.
A wince. "I'm… I'm your mother."
There was a beat of silence. Edward stepped forward, his voice steadier. "Welcome home, Isabella."
Home?
The word left a bitter taste on her tongue.
"I don't remember this place," she said simply.
Her gaze moved over the paintings, the marble floors, the grand chandelier glittering like a constellation above them. "It's beautiful."
Clarissa swallowed. "You can take your time adjusting. We don't expect anything from you right away. This is your room key," she said softly, holding out a small, ornate brass card.
Isabella took it, her fingers brushing her mother's briefly.
"Thank you."
And with that, she moved past them, climbing the stairs without a backward glance.
The five brothers looked on from the lounge—Alexander, Jonathan, Sebastian, Nicholas, and Felix. Felix, the youngest, whispered, "She doesn't even look nervous."
Jonathan replied quietly, "She's not the girl we imagined."
Felix's gaze sharpened. "She's… something else."
Alexander nodded. "She's our sister. We'll find a way."
But even as he said it, none of them were sure if she'd let them.
In her room, Isabella unpacked slowly. The space was absurdly luxurious. A king-sized bed, walk-in wardrobe, a bathroom bigger than her old bedroom.
And yet it didn't feel like hers.
Not yet.
Her phone buzzed.
[AshenWolf]: "Still awake?"
[SkyeEcho]: "Just reached somewhere new. Feels unfamiliar."
[AshenWolf]: "You okay?"
Isabella hesitated.
[SkyeEcho]: "Define 'okay.'"
A pause. Then:
[AshenWolf]: "Want me to distract you?"
Isabella smirked slightly, curling up on the chaise by the window.
[SkyeEcho]: "Try me."
Next Chapter Teaser: The Lin family tries to bond with their lost daughter, but Isabella keeps her distance. Meanwhile, Victor begins closing in on her true identity, unaware of just how close she already is…