The dining room is bright, all glass and marble and quiet clinking cutlery.
Shyra is already seated, Amaya in her arms, humming softly. She looks up when Rhea enters.
"Well," Shyra says cheerfully. "Good morning, scandal."
Rhea drops into her chair. "Don't."
Shyra grins wider. "You should've seen Mom's face. I thought she might short-circuit."
Kane enters behind Rhea, composed as ever, and takes her seat at the head of the table.
"Enough," Kane says.
Shyra takes a sip of coffee. "Just warming the atmosphere."
Rhea keeps her eyes on her plate.
Kane begins pouring tea, movements precise. "That girl," she says casually, "has no sense of boundary."
Shyra hums. "She climbed security. That's impressive."
Rhea shoots her a look. "You're enjoying this."
"I'm enjoying you being flustered," Shyra corrects. "Rare sight."
Kane sets the teapot down. "She will not be welcomed here again."
Rhea's fingers twitch.
"She won't come," Rhea says. "I'll make sure of it."
Shyra tilts her head. "You sound confident."
Rhea snaps, "Drop it, Shyra."
Kane looks between them. "Rhea."
Rhea meets her mother's eyes.
"You will remember why you are here," Kane says evenly. "And what this is meant to achieve."
Rhea nods once. "I know."
Shyra watches Rhea closely now, humor fading just a little.
Amaya reaches toward Rhea, babbling. Rhea instinctively takes her hand, grounding herself.
Kane stands. "I have meetings."
She pauses behind Rhea's chair. Lowers her voice.
"Don't confuse attention with attachment," Kane says. "That mistake ruins people."
She walks away.
Shyra exhales. "Well. That was fun."
Rhea doesn't reply.
Her phone vibrates silently in her pocket.
She doesn't check it.
Not yet.
Kwong Mansion — Breakfast
The dining hall is immaculate. Too immaculate.
Sunlight spills through floor-to-ceiling windows, catching on crystal glasses and polished cutlery. The table is long enough to seat a board meeting, but this morning it holds only Kwongs, seated at the far end, posture straight, expression unreadable.
Ling hasn't slept.
Dadi notices immediately.
"You look like someone stole your sleep and returned it damaged," Dadi says mildly, buttering her toast.
Ling lifts her cup. "I'm fine."
Rina snorts. "You didn't even argue. That's how I know you're not."
Victor lowers his newspaper slightly. "Late night?"
Ling hums noncommittally.
Eliza doesn't look at Ling. She stirs her tea with slow, deliberate precision. "Some people forget this house is not a hotel."
Ling's jaw tightens.
Dadi glances between them. "Oh? Did someone check in unannounced?"
Ling's eyes flick up—sharp warning—but Dadi's already smiling.
Rina leans forward, chin on her hand. "If someone did, I hope they climbed in through a window. Much more dramatic."
Ling kicks Rina under the table.
Rina grins wider. "Worth it."
Victor clears his throat. "Ling."
She looks at him immediately.
"You're distracted," Victor says gently. "That's unlike you."
"I have university matters," Ling replies.
Eliza finally looks up. Her gaze is cool. Assessing. "University matters," she repeats. "Or certain students."
The room stills.
Ling sets her cup down carefully. "Be clear."
Eliza smiles thinly. "I am being clear."
Dadi interjects smoothly, "Eliza, darling, if you're going to accuse, at least do it before the eggs get cold."
Rina laughs. "Dadi's right. Accusations pair better with coffee."
Eliza ignores them. Her eyes stay locked on Ling. "You're allowing yourself to be compromised."
Ling's voice drops. "By what."
"By distraction," Eliza says. "By novelty. By someone who doesn't belong in your world. By someone who ran."
Victor frowns. "Eliza—"
"She doesn't," Eliza continues. "And you know it."
Ling leans back in her chair, slow, controlled. "You don't get to decide who belongs in my world."
Eliza's lips curve. "I always have."
A beat.
Dadi sets her knife down. "Careful," she says lightly. "That sounded like a challenge."
Ling's eyes flick to Dadi—gratitude, brief.
Rina watches Ling closely now. "You came late home last night," she says. Not accusing. Observing.
Ling doesn't answer.
Victor folds his paper fully. "Ling."
She exhales once. "I went for a ride."
Eliza scoffs softly. "At night."
"Yes," Ling says. "At night."
Silence presses.
Dadi breaks it, cheerful. "Well, at least she didn't bring the bike to the dining table. Progress."
Rina smirks. "Yet."
Eliza stands abruptly. "Finish your breakfast. You have responsibilities."
She leaves without another word.
The tension lingers after her departure like static.
Victor sighs. "She worries," he says quietly.
"She controls," Ling replies.
Victor doesn't argue.
Rina tilts her head. "So," she says, lowering her voice, "window girl or door girl?"
Ling shoots her a look.
Dadi chuckles. "Oh, it was definitely a window. I'd bet my rings."
Ling stands. "I'm late."
Dadi smiles at her back. "You already were, my love."
Ling pauses at the doorway. Just for a fraction of a second.
Then she leaves.
Rina watches her go, expression shifting from teasing to thoughtful. "She's in deep."
Dadi nods. "Oh yes."
Victor stares at the empty doorway. "I just hope," he murmurs, "she doesn't get hurt."
Dadi's smile fades slightly. "Or hurt her."