Lelo had always known she was different. Other little girls wanted dolls and fairy tales. She wanted secrets. She wanted silence. And above all—she wanted her mother.
But it hadn't always been like this. Not exactly. At first, she didn't understand what she felt. She only knew that her chest burned when her mother looked at someone else too long. That her hands trembled when her father spoke Serene's name with too much softness. That her dreams were always filled with sharp teeth and golden light—and her mother, standing at the center of it all.
So when Serene changed, Lelo noticed first. It wasn't the way her voice lost its edge or the way she smiled too easily. It was the way she looked at Lelo. Like everything was fine. Like she wasn't broken anymore. Like she didn't remember.
Lelo stood in the shadows of the doorway, her small fists clenched at her sides. Serene was humming. Humming while brushing her hair. Like she wasn't the woman who once screamed behind that locked door. Like she wasn't the woman who had begged for freedom.
The maids said the procedure had worked. Roman had smiled at Lelo and said, "She's happy now. Just like we always wanted."
But Lelo didn't trust smiles. And she didn't trust peace.
Because the woman in front of her was not her mother. Not fully. Not yet.
And yet—she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever. Serene radiated a calm glow, her dark skin shimmering in the morning light. She wore the ivory gown Lelo had picked for her last week, and her hair was braided back, decorated with pale gold clips. She was the perfect wife. The perfect mother.
And Lelo hated it.
She stepped into the room silently. "Mama."
Serene turned, her smile gentle and composed. "Yes, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
Lelo forced a smile. "Do you want help with your hair?"
Serene blinked, then nodded. "That would be lovely. Thank you, my little angel."
Lelo climbed onto the stool behind her, hands sliding through the thick, coiled strands. She moved with precision, touching every curl like it was sacred.
Because it was hers. All of it was.
"You're so beautiful, Mama."
Serene chuckled lightly. "Thank you."
Lelo leaned in, her breath brushing her mother's ear. "You're mine."
Serene tilted her head. "What did you say, baby?"
Lelo smiled innocently. "I said you look divine."
She resumed braiding, tighter now. Her fingers pulled harder than necessary, but Serene remained still, smiling at her reflection like a doll.
She doesn't remember, Lelo thought. She doesn't remember the nights she sobbed in this chair. The days she tried to run. The time she slapped Roman and called him a monster.
She doesn't remember me, crying at the door.
And that made it worse.
Lelo didn't want a peaceful mother. She wanted a fighter. A storm. She wanted the rage and fire back. This soft version was foreign—wrong.
When the braid was done, Lelo moved around to face her. "Will you play in the garden with me today?"
Serene's eyes sparkled. "Of course. I'd love to."
A lie. So soft it hurt.
Lelo smiled sweetly. "Let's wear matching dresses."
"Alright," Serene replied, smoothing her gown.
Lelo grasped her mother's hand as they walked out. Her grip was tight. Possessive. She could feel the pulse beneath Serene's skin—warm and steady.
But it wasn't enough.
That afternoon, Roman returned.
Lelo dragged him into the study. Her voice was low. Urgent. "She's pretending. She doesn't love us yet."
Roman's expression darkened. "It takes time, Lelo."
She shook her head. "I don't want time. I want Mama back. Not this... this doll."
He crouched to her level, brushing hair from her cheek. "Then we'll bring her back. Completely."
Lelo smiled—not the sweet smile, but the jagged one she wore when she dreamed of fire.
Because if her mother wouldn't return on her own—
They'd drag her back piece by piece.
And this was only the beginning.