The house feels different the moment I step inside.
Not because anything has changed physically.
But because she's here again.
Luna is back.
And that alone shifts the entire atmosphere of the Gambino mansion into something louder, brighter… and far more unpredictable.
I loosen my tie as I walk through the corridor, but it doesn't feel like relief. Just habit. My mind is already aware of her presence before I even see her.
Four weeks.
Four weeks since the shooting.
Four weeks since silence became normal.
And today—the return of chaos.
I hear her voice before I enter the room.
Too loud. Too alive. Completely unfiltered.
"I AM TELLING YOU, THAT CHICKEN WAS NOT NORMAL FOOD—IT WAS HEALING FOOD!"
Kiara laughs in the background.
Adrian responds with exhausted silence.
I stop for half a second at the doorway.
Then I walk in.
The living room is exactly what I expected.
Luna is standing near the sofa, gesturing wildly like she's delivering a courtroom argument. Kiara is sitting half folded into the couch, trying not to laugh too hard. Adrian looks like he's questioning his life decisions in real time.
And then there's her.
She turns.
Sees me.
For a fraction of a second, her expression pauses.
Then it resets into something sharp.
Confident.
Almost defensive.
"Oh," she says, crossing her arms. "Look who finally decided to show up."
The room goes quiet.
I don't react immediately.
Because I'm not here as a visitor.
I'm here because this mansion has become a temporary controlled zone after the incident.
A secured environment agreed upon by both families.
The Gambino estate was chosen for one reason: protection protocols, manpower, surveillance coverage.
And my presence here is not optional.
It's strategic.
At least that's what I tell myself.
"I heard you were discharged," I say calmly.
She tilts her head. "Wow. News travels fast in the land of absence."
A faint tension spreads through the room.
Kiara coughs to hide a laugh.
Adrian closes his laptop slowly.
I look at Luna properly now.
She looks stronger.
Still stubborn.
Still too sharp for someone who just recovered from something that should have ended differently.
And still pretending she doesn't care.
"You're loud," I say.
She gasps dramatically. "Excuse me? I am energetic. There's a difference."
"There isn't."
That earns me a glare.
Good.
That's familiar.
Adrian stands up first.
"This entire house is going to give me a headache," he mutters.
Luna immediately turns on him. "You already have a headache. I am your sister."
"A regrettable fact," he replies.
Kiara laughs harder this time.
I stay still.
Watching.
Measuring.
Not the situation.
Her.
Because that's what I've been doing for weeks.
From reports.
From updates.
From silence.
And now she's finally in front of me again.
She walks past me suddenly, brushing by like she owns the space.
And she does.
But halfway past, she slows.
Just slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Enough for me to.
"…you could've come," she says casually.
Not emotional.
Not demanding.
Just stated.
Like a fact she's been carrying for a while.
I don't answer immediately.
Because Adrian is here.
Because Kiara is here.
Because too many eyes exist in this room for anything honest.
So I choose distance.
"I was occupied," I say.
She lets out a short laugh.
"Of course you were."
And she keeps walking.
But something in her posture tightens before she disappears into the kitchen.
The house slowly settles into motion again.
Not calm.
Never calm with her.
Just… adjusted chaos.
Kiara follows Luna into the kitchen, already laughing again at something she says about "freedom food."
Adrian leaves upstairs, done with everything.
Staff move more cautiously than usual, like they're still recalibrating to her presence.
And I remain where I am.
Near the hallway.
Not moving.
Not leaving.
Zade appears beside me after a moment.
"She's exactly the same," he says quietly.
I glance at him. "No."
He raises a brow.
"She's louder," I correct.
That earns a small exhale from him.
Then he adds, "You stayed away."
A pause.
"I was handling things," I say.
Zade doesn't respond immediately. He doesn't need to.
Because we both know what "handling things" actually means.
Avoidance.
Control.
Distance.
He looks toward the kitchen. "She noticed."
"I know."
That's the problem.
She always notices.
From the kitchen, her voice rises again.
"IF ANYONE TRIES TO GIVE ME HOSPITAL FOOD AGAIN, I WILL DECLARE WAR."
Kiara laughs.
Even Zade lets out a faint smile.
Something in my chest loosens slightly.
Not fixed.
Not solved.
Just less tight.
I finally move.
Not toward responsibility.
Not toward duty.
Just toward the sound of her voice filling a house that had been too quiet without her.
Because whether I admit it or not—
the mansion isn't stable again.
Not yet.
But she's back.
And that changes everything.