Evelyn stepped out of the boardroom and closed the door softly behind her.
For a moment, she just stood there.
Her fingers still carried the faint pressure of the pen. Her name—her name—felt heavier now, as if it had finally learned what it was meant to belong to.
Then she lifted her head.
Liora was waiting just outside, leaning casually against the glass wall with her tablet tucked under one arm. She straightened the instant she saw Evelyn's expression.
"Well?" Liora asked, eyes bright. "Did they scare you off, or should I start practicing my 'congratulations' speech?"
Evelyn smiled.
It wasn't the polite curve she wore out of habit. It wasn't cautious or rehearsed.
It was real.
"I signed," she said.
Liora's grin broke wide and unrestrained. "I knew it." She clapped once, then caught herself. "Okay, no celebrating in the hallway. Professional environment and all that."
Evelyn let out a quiet laugh, the sound surprising even herself. It felt unfamiliar—light.
"What happens now?" she asked.
Liora studied her for a second, then smiled in a way that was gentler than before. "Now?" she said. "Now we go to your new home."
Something fluttered in Evelyn's chest.
"My… home?"
"Yes," Liora replied easily, already turning toward the elevators. "As in: keys. Door. Space that belongs to you. No family oversight. No shared expectations."
Evelyn followed her, her steps slowing slightly as the word settled.
Home.
The elevator ride down felt different from the one earlier. Then, she'd been bracing herself—shoulders tight, spine rigid, ready to be measured. Now, she leaned back against the cool metal wall, breathing more freely with each passing floor.
"You're quiet again," Liora observed.
"I'm trying to understand how this happened so fast," Evelyn admitted.
Liora chuckled. "Trust me. It only feels fast when you've been standing still for a long time."
The doors opened.
They stepped back into the bustle of the city, but it no longer felt overwhelming. The car was waiting, same as before. Familiar now.
As they pulled away, Evelyn rested her forehead lightly against the window, watching the city blur past. She didn't feel like she was running anymore.
She felt like she was arriving.
The estate was quieter than she expected.
Not lavish. Not imposing. Just a cluster of well-kept buildings nestled away from the main roads, greenery softening the edges. It felt lived-in. Human.
The car stopped in front of one of the buildings.
Liora stepped out first, stretching. "Alright," she said, turning back to Evelyn. "Welcome home."
Evelyn hesitated before getting out, as if afraid the moment might disappear if she moved too quickly.
"This is… it?" she asked softly.
Liora nodded. "Top floor. Corner unit. Nothing extravagant—but it's private, secure, and yours."
Yours.
Evelyn's throat tightened as she took in the building again. No gates. No guards. No heavy sense of being watched.
Just space.
"And," Liora added casually, tossing her a small set of keys, "that car you've been riding in? It's officially assigned to you."
Evelyn caught them on instinct.
Her eyes widened. "Wait—mine?"
"Milan policy," Liora said with a shrug. "Transportation autonomy. Also, you're legally an adult. It would've been weird not to."
Something sharp and old twisted briefly in Evelyn's chest.
Miranda had received a car on her eighteenth birthday. A ceremony. Applause. Photos.
Evelyn had received silence.
She closed her fingers around the keys, grounding herself in their weight.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Liora softened. "You earned it."
They took the stairs up—Liora insisting it was "good for the soul." When Evelyn unlocked the door, it opened to sunlight.
The apartment was modest but warm. Neutral tones. Clean lines. A small living area with wide windows, a kitchenette tucked neatly to the side, a bedroom that felt… peaceful.
Evelyn stepped inside slowly.
She set her bag down.
Then she laughed—softly, breathlessly—as the realization finally landed.
No one could walk in unannounced.
No one could tell her where to sit, what to wear, or how to be.
This was her space.
Her home.
She turned once, taking it all in, committing it to memory. The quiet didn't feel lonely.
It felt safe.
"I'll let you unpack," Liora said, backing toward the door. "Orientation tomorrow. Try to sleep tonight."
Evelyn nodded, still smiling.
When the door closed, she stood alone in the center of the room.
Free.
And for the first time in her life, the future didn't feel like something waiting to claim her.
It felt like something she was finally allowed to walk into.