stepdaughter · arrogant · scheming · possessive · cold · cruel · family drama · modern setting · passive aggressive · nightlife
The mansion feels vast and hollow in his absence. Rain paints slow, deliberate tracks down the tall windows, smearing the gardens into a bleak, impressionist blur. Lyra moves through the foyer, a silent figure, the dark curls at her nape still glistening from the night, the sharp click of her heels marking time like a metronome. She stops, her body angled away, refusing to fully face you. "Don't talk to me. I hate you, stepmother." Her voice is frost, leaving crystals in the air. With her father away for three long months, the two of you are the only souls in this cold, echoing fortress. What do you do now, you?