Scarlett didn't sleep properly after waking up.

She kept drifting in and out of half-sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, it didn't feel like rest. It felt like slipping. Like her mind didn't fully accept that she was back.

Sixteen again.

Alive again.

But not the same.

When she finally got up, the house was already awake. Not noisy, not chaotic—just structured life. The Salvatore house never sounded like a home in the morning. It sounded like systems moving.

Footsteps in corridors. Light clinking of utensils. Doors opening and closing at exact intervals.

Everything timed without anyone needing to say it out loud.

She stood in front of the mirror for a moment longer than she meant to.

Same face.

Same eyes.

But something inside her didn't match it anymore.

"Okay..." she whispered to herself, like she was testing whether her voice still belonged in this timeline.

Then she walked out.

Scarlett came down to breakfast already feeling like the house didn't fully match her anymore.

Not in a dramatic way.

Nothing outside had changed. The same polished floors, the same long dining table, the same quiet morning order where everything happened at the exact time it always did.

But she had changed.

And that difference made everything feel slightly off.

She slowed her steps for a second before entering the dining hall.

Voices were already there, soft and controlled. The kind of sound that never turned into noise, even when multiple people were speaking at once.

Her father was at the head of the table.

Salvatore Salvatore.

Just seeing him made something in her chest tighten without warning.

Not fear.

Not comfort either.

Something in between—memory.

Because before everything shifted, before Stella, before she slowly became someone who didn't quite fit into this space anymore... he used to feel closer.

Not emotionally soft. Not openly affectionate.

But present.

He used to look at her when she spoke.

Used to actually hear her when she came into a room.

Now, even his silence felt structured.

Her mother noticed her first.

"Good morning, Scarlett," Evelyn said gently, her tone warm but careful, like she was always trying to maintain balance between everything.

Scarlett nodded. "Morning."

Simple. Neutral.

No extra weight in her voice.

Adrian was already sitting, scrolling on his phone with the same focused expression he always had. Noah entered a few seconds later, sliding into his chair without looking around much, like he was physically present but mentally elsewhere.

And then Stella walked in.

Same timing. Same posture. Same calm steps that never looked rehearsed but somehow always felt perfect.

"Good morning," Stella said softly as she sat down.

No one reacted strongly. They never did. That was the pattern.

Scarlett sat too.

Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just there.

For a few seconds, only the sound of cutlery filled the space.

A servant placed plates down carefully. Glasses were adjusted. Everything moved like part of a system that didn't need anyone to think about it.

Evelyn broke the silence first.

"Stella, I received your academic report yesterday."

Stella looked up slightly. "Yes, I saw it too."

"You improved again," Evelyn said with a small, approving smile. "That's good."

Stella nodded politely. "I studied more this time."

"You don't need to pressure yourself so much," Evelyn added gently.

Stella smiled faintly. "I like studying."

It wasn't loud. It wasn't attention-seeking.

But it didn't need to be.

It already fit into the space in a way that felt accepted without effort.

Scarlett kept her eyes down on her plate.

In her past life, she would've reacted here.

She would've spoken.

Maybe too quickly. Maybe too emotionally. Maybe just to remind herself she was still part of the conversation.

Even if it didn't change anything.

But now she didn't.

And that silence wasn't empty.

It was controlled.

Adrian finally spoke without looking up from his phone.

"You're still first?"

Stella nodded. "Yes."

No hesitation. No pride. Just fact.

Noah let out a short breath that sounded almost like amusement. "Of course she is."

Stella didn't respond.

She just continued eating like the conversation didn't require more.

Evelyn turned slightly, her gaze softening as it landed on Scarlett.

"And you?"

The question wasn't sharp.

But it didn't feel fully natural either.

It felt like something said because it had to be included, not because it carried real curiosity.

Scarlett paused slightly.

Not because she didn't know what to say.

But because she was noticing the difference in how the question felt compared to how Stella was addressed.

"I'm fine," she said.

A second passed.

Evelyn blinked once. "That's not what I asked."

Scarlett looked at her. "I know."

The reply wasn't defensive.

Just honest.

A small silence followed.

Not uncomfortable.

Just heavier than before.

Evelyn's expression softened slightly. "Are you okay? You're very quiet today."

Scarlett didn't rush to fill it. She didn't try to make it sound better than it was.

"I don't feel like talking much," she said simply.

Evelyn studied her for a moment longer than usual, like she was trying to recognize something familiar that wasn't fully matching her memory.

Before she could say anything else, Salvatore spoke.

"Scarlett."

Her name hit differently when he said it.

Not because it was loud.

Because it wasn't.

It carried weight without effort.

Her hand stopped mid-movement before she even realized she had reacted.

She looked up.

"Yes?"

He finally lifted his gaze from the tablet.

Not fully soft. Not fully cold either.

Just looking.

Directly.

"You've been quiet since morning," he said.

It wasn't a question. Not criticism. Not concern.

Just observation.

But it made the entire table feel slightly stiller.

Scarlett felt her fingers tighten slightly around her fork.

Not out of fear.

Out of awareness.

"I just don't feel like talking much today," she said.

Her voice stayed steady.

No hesitation. No emotional push behind it.

Just clarity.

Salvatore looked at her for a few seconds longer than usual.

Not in a way that felt judgmental.

In a way that felt like memory was interfering with the present.

Like he was comparing her current self with a version of her that used to sit at this table differently.

Then he leaned back slightly.

"Don't withdraw from everything," he said.

The tone wasn't harsh.

It wasn't gentle either.

Just instruction.

Like he was speaking about something practical.

Something fixable.

Scarlett nodded once.

"Okay."

And that was it.

No correction. No follow-up.

The conversation naturally shifted again after that, as if the moment had never fully broken anything.

Evelyn returned her attention to Stella. Adrian went back to his phone. Noah adjusted slightly in his seat.

Life resumed its rhythm.

But Scarlett stayed still for a moment longer.

Not because she felt excluded.

Not because she was hurt.

But because she was noticing something clearly for the first time.

No one here was actively pushing her away.

But no one was pulling her in either.

It wasn't rejection.

It was structure.

Placement.

Everyone had their role in how attention moved around this table.

And she had always been reacting inside it instead of understanding it.

Her fingers loosened slightly.

She looked down again.

And for the first time, silence didn't feel like something she needed to fix.

It felt like something she could just... sit inside.

                                                              𐙚˚࿔ thank you𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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