In the penthouse, Anya pulled back from the embrace and fixed Charlotte with a contemplative gaze.
"You've broken free of your shackles." She said quietly. "Haven't you, Charlotte?"
Charlotte looked at her in surprise.
"Earlier today, when that scene played out—the blood, the violence—you stayed. You watched. You didn't run, didn't hide, didn't retreat into yourself the way you used to."
Anya's smile was proud. "I'm so impressed with you, you know."
"Your older sister is proud too!" Astrid nodded vigorously. "I thought it would take years more before you could handle something like that. But today, you proved me wrong!"
Both sisters beamed at Charlotte, their earlier teasing forgotten in the warmth of genuine admiration.
Charlotte forced an awkward, strained smile, looking down at her lap.
"Thanks..." She murmured, her fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.
"I...I've always wanted to improve. I wanted to prove to Mika that I've finally moved on."
