The Lin estate felt more like a museum than a home—echoing halls, portraits of ancestors on every wall, and floors polished to the point of reflection.
Isabella's footsteps were silent as she walked the long corridor leading to the west wing.
She wasn't exploring.
She was calculating.
Measuring exits, security systems, blind spots.
Just in case.
Not because she was afraid—but because she never trusted any place she couldn't disappear from.
Meanwhile, Felix Lin watched her from a distance.
His sister—no, the girl who was supposed to be his sister—had been living with them for two days, and in that time, she'd barely spoken a full sentence to anyone. Not out of arrogance. Not even awkwardness.
She just… didn't seem to need anyone.
It bugged him.
"Have you noticed she doesn't ask for anything?" Felix said aloud.
Sebastian looked up from his laptop. "Some people are just quiet."
"No, not like that. I mean… she doesn't seem curious. Or uncertain. She doesn't look around like someone discovering her roots."
Sebastian raised a brow. "What are you suggesting?"
"I don't know." Felix stood. "But I'm going to find out who she really is."
Downstairs, Edward Lin sat in his study with an encrypted file on the desk in front of him.
A secret record—a background check.
But it wasn't one he had ordered.
It had arrived anonymously that morning.
No sender. Just a file. Labeled:
"FOR YOUR DAUGHTER'S SAFETY."
He opened it slowly.
The first few pages were blank, redacted.
Then a name appeared.
Not Isabella Lin.
Just: Isabella R.
Attached: Surveillance clips of a masked figure in a racing helmet.
News headlines in foreign languages. Underground forums showing screenshots of medical miracle cases signed by someone known only as "The Medicine Ghost."
Then—
A blurry photo.
Of a girl in black, leaping from a rooftop during a military simulation competition.
No face. But Edward stared at the form, the precision, the aura.
He closed the file.
His daughter wasn't just hidden.
She was dangerous.
That same evening, Isabella sat at the piano in the east hall—alone.
She let her fingers trail across the keys with no intent to play. Just touch.
She had been taught by a recluse who only trained prodigies. Who once told her, "Music doesn't need to be heard to be felt."
She struck one note. A single, aching sound.
"You play?"
She turned.
It was Felix.
He leaned on the doorway, casual but watchful.
"I can," she replied.
"That wasn't playing."
"It wasn't meant to be."
He walked in, hands in his pockets. "You really don't talk much."
"I don't waste words."
Felix tilted his head. "Are you always this guarded?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
She met his gaze. "Because people like to pretend they care when they're just curious. Curiosity gets tiring."
Felix blinked.
It wasn't what he expected.
But he didn't leave.
Instead, he sat at the edge of the piano bench. "I'm not pretending."
Isabella didn't answer. She looked back down at the keys.
Felix said quietly, "You're not a ghost, you know."
She stilled.
"You're not some shadow wandering through our house. You're real. And you belong here."
Her fingers pressed another key—one note, soft and fleeting.
"You don't know me well enough to say that," she said.
"Then let me."
For a moment, the silence between them wasn't heavy.
It was just there.
Across the city, Victor stared at a security still from a hospital camera—his own private tech team had managed to recover one broken frame that hadn't been wiped.
In it: a girl, mid-turn, profile only.
No badge. No ID.
Just those eyes.
He leaned closer.
"Isabella," he murmured.
And something inside him sparked.
Next Chapter Teaser: Felix begins bonding with his sister—but his curiosity may lead him to truths Isabella's not ready to share. And Victor makes a move that brings him dangerously close to discovering SkyeEcho's real face…