At the far end of the common room, opposite the doors Marcus had entered, stood a tall arched glass door framed by matching windows. Moonlight spilled through the panes, mingling with the chandelier's golden glow and casting soft silver patterns across the floor. The blend of light felt warm and haunting—like stepping into a dream on the edge of memory.
Marcus reached for the cool, ornate handle and eased the door open. The hinges creaked softly as he stepped into the crisp night air, faintly scented with blooming flowers.
The lawn stretched out in perfect green, dewdrops shimmering on every blade. A quiet pond mirrored the moonlight, its surface stirred only by the lazy ripple of fish beneath. Smooth stones ringed its edge—meticulously placed, yet natural in feel.
Just outside the door, a marble patio matched the mansion's pristine stonework. A low cobblestone fence wrapped around wrought-iron tables and chairs, undisturbed beneath the open sky. It felt like a painting—still, precise, and untouched.
Beyond it, a winding cobblestone path led to a softly glowing greenhouse at the edge of the estate. Trees and bushes lined the way in careful disarray, their tangled branches and scattered leaves mimicking wild growth. Marcus guessed every root had been placed with intent.
"You sure do like taking your time."
The voice rang out again, dry and amused. His sister's. She passed him on the path, hands clasped behind her back, her casual black home attire fluttering slightly in the night breeze. It matched Marcus' outfit almost perfectly, like they'd unknowingly dressed from the same closet. The wind tugged at the hem of her sleeves and brushed her hair into motion, but she seemed completely unfazed.
She paused mid-stride and twirled toward him with theatrical exasperation, giving him an annoyed look.
"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"
She chuckled, the sound light and teasing, before pivoting again and continuing down the path. To her, this place was old hat—a view passed a hundred times, worn smooth by routine. The beauty of the estate didn't reach her anymore, numbed by familiarity.
Marcus lingered, exhaling slowly as he let her gain distance. He allowed himself the luxury of wonder, drinking in the estate with wide, quiet eyes.
I don't even think a million dollars back on Earth would buy me a view like this.
Somewhere ahead, a door creaked open, its sound faint but distinct in the open air. His sister had already reached the greenhouse, its structure now glowing with warm, yellow light that spilled softly through the misted glass panels. Faint outlines of ferns, hanging vines, and flowering shrubs pressed against the panes, veiling the inside like nature's curtain.
Then came a muffled, feminine voice, loud enough to carry but softened by the greenhouse walls:
"Aveline!"
Marcus blinked.
Guess I got a name for my sister now.
He smiled to himself and picked up his pace, footsteps quickening across the stone path. As he neared the greenhouse, the density of greenery made it harder to peer inside. Broad leaves and creeping plants crawled along the frame, allowing only the occasional sliver of light to break through—offering glimpses, not answers.
"Hopefully this will be the last family member I have to meet…"
"I definitely don't want to meet more people…"
He chuckled under his breath, steeling himself as he reached the door. One hand gripped the handle, the metal warm from the glow inside.
And with a final breath, Marcus opened it—stepping forward to meet the last member of his new family.