The car door slammed.
"Kenna—" my father's voice broke on the name and the crowd quieted.
"Stay with me," he added, under his breath.
"Ms. Su, over here!" a reporter shouted, camera flashes stabbing.
"Don't answer them," Conway murmured, his hand on my elbow. His grip was light but sure.
"Welcome home," Axel said, eyes on mine, flat and sharp. "You look the same."
"You look tired," a woman near Bianca added, loud enough for cameras.
"Kenna, how are you?" a neighbor called from a gate. Someone else clapped as if at a performance.
"Hello," I said. Two words. A driver handed a bag to Simon and bowed. He looked at me like he wanted a confession.
"Come, leave the trunks," Simon said to the servants. "We'll take care of everything."
"Is this true? Are you back for good?" a cameraman pushed.
Simon stepped forward. "She's home. That's all anyone needs to know."
"Is the family reunited?" the reporter pressed.
"Yes," Conway said. "We are together."
Bianca caught my eye and smiled too wide. Her followers were watching on a live feed; she raised an eyebrow like she expected drama.
"Kenna," she said, loud enough for every phone to catch it, "did you miss us? Or were you with strangers?"
People laughed. I did not answer.
A servant opened the mansion doors and the halls swallowed the noise.
"Silver room ready?" a housekeeper asked Conway as we passed.
"Yes," he said. "We kept her piano
