The house should have looked like a home.
It should have.
But to Aria Leighton Valleria, the grand building at the end of the hill looked like a foreign monument that merely happened to bear her family's name.
The black car carrying her slowed to a stop in front of the wrought-iron gate engraved with the family crest—an eagle with a broken wing, an old symbol of their former glory. In the faint fragments of her childhood memory, that emblem had once felt warm—like a proud embrace meant to protect her.
Now, it seemed to be watching her, making sure she had truly returned, making sure she did not bring chaos from the world that had swallowed her ten years ago.
Moments later, the gate opened automatically, as if it knew who had arrived. Yet it did not sound like a welcome. The creaking of metal was more like a low groan from something that did not wish to live again.
The car stopped at the pristine stone driveway. Servants stood in two neat lines, bowing their heads respectfully, yet not a single one dared to look at Aria's face for too long. Some of them recognized her—the girl who had vanished for years—who had returned carrying something different… something that made the air feel three degrees colder.
Then, the car door opened.
Aria stepped out without a sound.
The sixteen-year-old girl stood straight, her long black hair falling like a curtain of night that refused to be pierced by light. Her pale blue eyes swept across the vast courtyard before her, unhurried, un-nervous, expecting nothing.
Her porcelain-white skin looked untouched by sunlight—a result of the years she had spent far away from a normal world.
In front of the house stood two people. A man and a woman. Both appeared elegant, expensive, well-groomed—and utterly unfamiliar.
Adrian Valleria, the head of the family and owner of the business empire that made the Valleria name echo throughout the nation, stood with perfect posture. His body was upright, his expression as flat as marble, with only a thin line of tension at the corners of his eyes betraying that he felt something. But what exactly… was unclear.
Beside him stood Helena—a former model with neatly pinned strawberry-blonde hair. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her chest. Her face was beautiful by high-society standards. Her makeup was expensive, her smile carefully trained, yet her gaze trembled subtly when she saw Aria step out of the car.
They were all waiting for her.
Aria walked slowly toward them, her steps light, almost soundless. There was no shame, no hesitation, and no hope. As if she were merely returning to a place her body had once occupied—not her soul.
When the distance closed to just a few meters, Helena inhaled deeply before stepping forward.
"Aria…" Her voice nearly broke, but she quickly steadied herself. "Welcome home."
The words sounded warm.
But they only sounded that way—nothing more.
And Aria knew it.
She merely dipped her head slightly in response, without a smile, without expression.
Adrian stepped forward. His smile was thin, formal, almost like a greeting at a business meeting rather than a reunion between a father and the biological daughter who had been gone for a decade.
"Aria," he said quietly. "We're glad you've finally come home."
A very subtle lie. Delivered in an exceedingly polite tone—nearly convincing to anyone.
But not to Aria.
The girl looked at them with eyes far too calm for someone her age. The wounds of her childhood did not show on the surface, yet they had been embedded so deeply that what remained was a soothing emptiness.
"Thank you," Aria replied simply, without the slightest trace of emotion.
The atmosphere froze after that, as if the air itself had solidified.
The servants tried to hold their breaths so as not to disturb this family reunion, but something felt off. It was as though they were witnessing three strangers who happened to share the same last name.
Helena wanted to hug Aria—she truly did—but she dared not approach. The cold aura emanating from Aria was not merely a matter of personality. There was something unexplainable about it, something that made Helena's hands tremble until they remained folded tightly against her chest.
Then Adrian finally gave a brief signal.
"Come inside, Aria. This is your home."
And Aria stepped forward. She did not object. She knew that—
This house was not her home anymore. Not now.
And at that very moment…
Light footsteps hurried closer.
"ARIAAA!" A cheerful voice rang out, high and warm—or pretending to be warm—filling the entire grand hall.
A girl with golden-blonde hair ran forward in a simple white dress deliberately styled to look sweet. Her brown eyes sparkled, her lips stretched into a wide smile, like someone who truly missed Aria.
She was Selena Hartmann. The adopted child of the family. The beloved little daughter of the Valleria household. The replacement for Aria's absence over the past ten years.
Without hesitation, she rushed to hug Aria.
Or tried to.
Because as Selena's arms moved to touch Aria's shoulder, Aria subtly shifted her body, causing the embrace to miss her skin by not even a millimeter.
Selena froze for a split second, but quickly masked her shock with an even sweeter smile.
"Aria! You're finally back! I missed you so much!" Her voice was sweet, innocent—too carefully crafted.
Aria looked at her without expression, like she was staring at an inanimate object.
"Oh, really."
That single, cold sentence caused Selena's smile to crack for just a moment before it was reassembled.
Helena visibly relaxed at seeing Selena attempt closeness. Adrian nodded slightly, as though the scene confirmed something in his mind.
But Aria saw deeper.
She saw no warmth there.
Only fear.
Discomfort.
Jealousy.
And something darker still—a worry that Aria's return would shatter the perfect life Selena had built all this time.
That smile was fake, carefully constructed, pretending to care.
Selena took Aria's hand, trying to pull her toward the living room.
"Come on! Everything's been prepared for your return! Mom had the chef make your favorite dishes—though we don't really know what you like anymore… hehe…"
Aria did not move. She did not look at Selena.
She replied flatly, "I can walk on my own."
Selena slowly released her hand.
Her smile remained sweet, but her eyes tightened.
"I-I just wanted to help…"
Aria walked past her without another word.
The grand hall was illuminated by lavish crystal chandeliers, but to Aria, the light felt cold—like the sterile glow of an operating room or a laboratory where she had spent years conducting research.
With every step she took, her shadow shifted across the marble floor—thin, precise, light, yet devoid of life.
Helena walked slowly behind her, the sound of her heels piercing the heavy silence.
"Aria, dear…" Helena's voice was gentle, but laced with hesitation. "We're truly… happy you're back."
Aria stopped. She turned her head slightly—just slightly.
"Alright."
There was no emotional response, no concealed anger, no warmth at all.
Just a short answer that left no room for further conversation.
Helena bit her lip, feeling like someone trying to embrace mist—lost, uncertain how, afraid, confused, and guilty all at once.
Then Aria continued walking.
She passed through a long corridor lined with Valleria family portraits. Her gaze fell upon one painting in particular—a family portrait from when she was still a child, around six years old, the last image taken before she "disappeared." The little girl in the painting smiled brightly.
But the Aria of now looked at it blankly. There was no bright smile, no warmth in her eyes. She stared at the portrait as if she were looking at someone who was not herself.
When they reached the living room, the servants had already arranged the table elegantly. Warm drinks were prepared. The scent of lavender filled every corner, meant to create a calming atmosphere.
But that calm was fake—just like Selena's smile.
Just like Helena and Adrian's formal words.
Selena sat on the sofa with deliberate sweetness, patting the empty seat beside her.
"Come sit here, Aria."
Aria chose a single chair far in the corner of the room. Selena's smile stiffened.
"H… haha… you like being alone, I guess…"
Aria remained silent.
And when Aria was silent, the room fell silent too—not because it was quiet, but because everyone was afraid to make a sound.
Adrian attempted to break the tension.
"We've prepared a new school for you. All your needs will be taken care of. If there's anything you need, just tell me."
Aria looked at him briefly, then returned her gaze to the table. "No need."
Helena spoke carefully.
"Aria… you've… grown so different."
"Yes." Aria acknowledged it without pride or sadness—merely stating a fact.
Selena raised her eyebrows slightly, trying to hide the sharp glint behind her smile.
"Of course she's different, Mom. She's been through… so much. We have to understand, right, Aria?"
Then Aria looked at Selena—not with anger, not with offense.
But with a gaze that made Selena's body tense.
A gaze devoid of emotion, like that of a doctor accustomed to watching dying patients without being shaken.
A gaze from someone who had faced death too often, until the world itself felt… quiet.
Selena quickly looked away.
Adrian interjected in his professional tone. "We'll help you adjust back into the family."
Aria nodded once. "Of course."
But that "of course" sounded more like, If that makes you feel at ease.
And that was the problem.
Aria did not return for family.
Not for warmth.
Not for love or recognition.
She returned because Professor Lysander had ordered her to. Because she could no longer stay at the secret clinic where she assisted in illegal surgeries that saved countless lives.
And because the government had begun tracing the existence of "Phoenix."
Because the outside world was too noisy for someone who preferred silence.
Here, she thought, she could stay quietly. Work. Study. Accumulate money. Without dealing with human emotions.
But she was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Selena kept smiling, but her jaw tightened.
Adrian looked at Aria as though trying to solve a complicated formula.
Helena looked like she might cry for no clear reason.
Aria simply sat there, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap—like an expensive porcelain statue that must not be touched.
At last, Helena spoke softly.
"Aria… welcome home."
Aria looked at her for a long time—long enough—then answered quietly,
"It's a big house."
Not gratitude.
Not acknowledgment.
Just an observation. A statement of fact.
Then the girl lowered her head slightly, as if ending the conversation.
"Thank you for picking me up."
Words that were exceedingly polite.
Exceedingly cold.
Exceedingly unreachable.
Behind Aria, Selena smiled sweetly—too sweet—hiding the fear that the girl who had returned might take and replace her place in the Valleria family.
And the Valleria family finally realized one thing:
They had gotten Aria back…
But not the Aria from before.
What returned was someone they did not fully know.
Not entirely human like them.
And not easy… to touch.
This homecoming was not the beginning of family harmony.
It was the beginning of the first crack.
One that, before long…
Would widen.