Can You Be My Luna

Chapter 11 WHAT WAS TAKEN

The house felt different the moment Lucas’s parents left. Their car disappeared down the long driveway, and with it went the warmth, the pretending and the fragile protection their presence had given me. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, darker—like the mansion had been holding its breath and could finally exhale.

Lucas didn’t look at me as the door closed behind us. “Go back to where you belong,” he said flatly. And l nodded and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

That night, I returned to the servants’ room. The narrow bed, the thin blanket, the familiar ache of knowing exactly how small my place in this house truly was. I lay down exhausted, my body sore, my heart even more so.

For the first time in days, no one watched me fall asleep. When I woke the next morning, something felt wrong. I sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The room was quiet, pale light slipping through the small window. I reached up absentmindedly to push my hair away from my face—And froze.

Something slid down my fingers and fell into my lap. A strand of hair. I stared at it, confused at first, then slowly, painfully aware. My heart began to pound as I gathered more hair between my fingers.

It was uneven. Jagged. My breath caught. I stumbled out of bed and rushed to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. My reflection stared back at me, unfamiliar and broken.

My hair, my long dark hair, was gone. Not trimmed but cut. Roughly and cruelly. As if someone hadn’t cared what it would look like afterwards.

My hands flew to my mouth as my knees nearly gave out. “No…” I whispered. I didn’t need to ask who had done it. There was only one person cruel enough. One person bold enough. One person who would enjoy this. Vanessa.

She must have come back. Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn’t bring it back. Crying never changed anything.

With shaking hands, I tried to even it out, cutting more than I should, trying desperately to make it look presentable. It only made things worse.

By the time I was done, my hair was uneven and too short, framing my face like a mistake I couldn’t undo.

I swallowed hard, then gathered myself and walked out heading straight to the kitchen. Breakfast still had to be made.

After making breakfast I went to the dining room to serve it, Vanessa was already there when I entered the dining room. Sitting comfortably beside Lucas. Smiling.

My stomach dropped. She looked radiant—hair perfect, lips painted, eyes bright with amusement. Like she hadn’t committed a silent cruelty earlier.

The moment she saw me, her smile widened. Then she laughed loud.

“Oh my God,” she said between laughs, clutching her stomach. “What happened to you?”

I kept my head down and continued serving the food. Her laughter echoed through the dining room, bouncing off the walls like knives. “Did a rat chew your hair off while you slept?” she added, wiping fake tears from her eyes.

Lucas looked up then. His gaze landed on my hair, and his expression shifted—from confusion to irritation.

“What happened to your hair?” he demanded.

My hands trembled slightly as I placed the plate before him. I forced my voice to stay steady.

“I… tried to cut it shorter,” I said quietly. “But I made a mistake.”

Vanessa burst out laughing again. “A mistake?” she mocked. “That’s not a mistake…. that’s a tragedy.”

I said nothing. Lucas exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed with the inconvenience of my appearance. “You look ridiculous,” he said.

The words sank deep. Vanessa leaned back in her chair, eyes gleaming. “I think it suits her,” she said sweetly. “Messy. Broken. Just like everything else about her.”

I finished serving them without another word.

My chest felt tight, like something inside me was cracking slowly and dangerously. I turned away from the table, my vision blurring.

As I walked out of the dining room, Vanessa’s laughter followed me. She wanted me to hear it. With every step down the hallway, one truth became painfully clear:

She wasn’t just trying to hurt me anymore. She was trying to erase me. I reached the servants’ room and finally allowed the tears to fall.