Save Me Sparrow

The door slammed hard against the wall of the attic bouncing against the wall, and Lyra shot upright in bed, heart racing before she was even fully awake. Morning light stabbing through the curtains, and there standing in the doorway like a storm cloud in human form was Vera, already dressed head to toe in black like a woman happily planning her husband's funeral, already annoyed, and very clearly done waiting. "You're late," Vera said, her voice sharp enough to cut through the fog in Lyra's head. Lyra groaned and dragged a hand over her face, blinking at the clock like it had personally betrayed her. "It's six forty three" she muttered. "Father said I got a day off today" "Your father isn't here," Vera replied, her heels clicking against the floor like punctuating her message clearly. "And the contract says you stay in this house and follow the rules of this house. My rules. You're nothing more than your father's bastard runt, this is more than you deserve as it is." There it was. The contract. Always the contract.The one that signed her life away before she could even finish school. The one thing Lyra couldn't argue with, no matter how unfair it felt. Her father was halfway across the world again, signing deals and sending short messages that said he'd call later, and somehow that meant Vera got to decide everything. Lyra shoved the blanket off and sat up, hair a mess, patience already gone. "The contract says I live here. It doesn't say I'm your employee." Vera didn't even blink. "You don't pay to live here. You help to live here." A quiet sound came from the hallway, and Lyra looked up just in time to see Wayne. Wayne was the kind of person who didn't have to try to take up space in a room he just did. At twenty-five, he had the solid, muscular build of someone who actually used the gym for more than pictures, broad shoulders filling the doorway whenever he leaned against it like he owned the place. There was always a hint of amusement in his expression, like he knew something everyone else didn't, and most of the time it made Lyra want to throw something at him. He moved with an easy confidence that made it obvious he was used to being comfortable wherever he went, whether it was his house or not, and the worst part was that Vera never seemed to mind. If anything, Vera treated him more like he belonged there than Lyra did. Leaning against the doorframe like he'd been there long enough to hear everything. Of course he had. He always appeared when things were at their worst, like he enjoyed the show. His father was one of her dad's business partners which somehow meant he got to stay here whenever he was in the city eating their food, using their house, and acting like Lyra was the one out of place. If he wasn't such a smug asshole he may actually be cute. Wayne raised an eyebrow, arms folded. "Still in bed? That's brave." Lyra grabbed her pillow and threw it at the door. "Go away, Wayne." He caught it easily, smirking like that had been the highlight of his morning. Vera didn't react at all. "Kitchen. Ten minutes. You're cooking today." Lyra blinked. "Cooking for who?" "For everyone," Vera said. "Me, Wayne, and the staff. If you live in this house, you contribute to it." By the time Lyra made it downstairs, her hoodie half on and her hair tied back badly, the kitchen was already loud with movement. Pans clanged, the kettle hissed, and the maids moved around quietly like they didn't want to get caught in the middle of whatever mood Vera was in today. The moment Lyra stepped inside, Vera looked up from the counter like she'd been waiting. "You're late again." "It's been nine minutes," Lyra muttered, grabbing a bowl harder than necessary. "Then you wasted nine minutes you could've spent cooking." Lyra cracked the eggs with more force than needed, a bit of shell falling in and making her sigh under her breath. She didn't even have to look to know Wayne was there. she could feel it. Sure enough, he was sitting at the island, spinning a spoon between his fingers like he had nothing better to do than watch her suffer. "Try not to burn it this time," he said casually. She didn't turn around. "Try not to eat it then." He smirked. "Didn't say I wouldn't." Vera slid a mug across the counter toward Lyra. "Coffee too. Strong. And make enough for everyone." "And your father trusted me to keep them while he's gone." Gone. The word sat in the air like it meant more than anyone wanted to admit. Lyra flipped the eggs a little too hard, then stopped when she realized Wayne was still staring at her. She turned, annoyed. "What?" He shrugged, but his voice was quieter this time. "Nothing. You look like you're about to fall asleep standing up." That caught her off guard for half a second, and she hated that it did. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the stove. "Maybe someone shouldn't wake me up at sunrise to clean a house that already has three maids," she muttered. There was a pause behind her. When she glanced back again, Wayne wasn't smirking anymore. He just looked away, tapping the spoon against the counter like he suddenly didn't have anything smart to say, he just leaned back in the chair like the whole situation had suddenly stopped being funny. In the morning light from the tall kitchen windows, Lyra could see him properly for the first time that morning. He looked like his broad shoulders stretching the sleeves of his shirt, One arm crossed loosely over his chest, The other running through the blonde hair making it messy in an effortless way that somehow made it look so much better that fell into his green eyes every time he tilted his head, and those eyes had that same sharp, watching look they always had. Lyra turned back to the stove before he could catch her staring. The eggs were already starting to stick, the smell of toast filling the kitchen while the kettle hissed behind her. Everything felt too loud, too warm, too crowded the maids moving quietly, Vera standing at the counter like a judge waiting for a mistake, Wayne sitting there like he had all the time in the world. "Hurry up," Vera said, checking the time on her phone. "Some of us have things to do today." Lyra slid the eggs onto a plate harder than she meant to. "Then maybe someone else should cook." Vera looked up slowly. "Excuse me?" Lyra froze for half a second, then forced a tight smile she didn't feel. "Nothing." Wayne let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but when Vera glanced at him, he was already looking down at the counter again, spinning the spoon between his fingers like he hadn't heard a thing. Lyra set the plates down one by one, the sound of ceramic hitting the counter echoing through the room. No one thanked her. They never did. She wiped her hands on a towel, staring at the contract pinned under a magnet on the side of the fridge. Her father had printed it himself before he left, signed at the bottom in thick black ink like that made it impossible to argue with. Vera had insisted it stay in the kitchen where everyone could see it. "So there are no misunderstandings," she'd said. Residence Agreement - Lyra Sparrow This agreement is established between Richard Whitstable and his wife Vera Whitstable-Hale regarding his daughter's continued residence at the Whitstable-Hale family home. Until further notice, the following conditions must be respected. Residence Requirement Lyra Sparrow must remain living in the residence and may not be relocated or made to permanently stay elsewhere. House Authority While Richard is away on business, Vera is responsible for managing the household. Her decisions regarding household responsibilities, schedules, and expectations must be respected. Contribution to Household Lyra is expected to contribute to the running of the house through assigned tasks. These may include cooking, cleaning shared spaces, assisting staff, or other reasonable duties requested by Vera. Conduct Lyra must maintain respectful behavior toward all members of the household, guests, and staff. Disruptive behavior, refusal of duties, or damage to the property will be considered a violation of the agreement. Curfew and Absences Lyra may leave the property during the day but must return by 10:00 PM unless otherwise approved in advance. Guests Lyra may not invite outside guests to the residence without permission from Vera. Education Lyra is expected to actively pursue education during her stay and not remain idle within the household. Failure to follow the terms of this agreement may result in loss of residential privileges and relocation to alternative accommodation arranged by Vera. Signed, Richard Whitstable, Her jaw tightened at the last line. Loss of residence privileges. Like this wasn't even her home unless the paper said it was. "Hurry up," Vera said without looking up. "You still need to clean after you cook." Lyra tore her eyes away from the contract and turned back to the sink, running the water harder than needed. "There are three maids standing right there." "And you're standing right here," Vera replied calmly. "So you'll clean." Wayne shifted in his chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor. In the morning light he looked even bigger than usual, broad shoulders stretching his shirt, blonde hair falling into his green eyes as he leaned forward on his elbows. He glanced at the paper on the fridge, then at Lyra, then back at his plate. "You really keep that up there?" he asked. Vera didn't even hesitate. "It avoids arguments." Lyra let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Because this feels very fair." Vera finally looked at her. "You agreed to it." "I didn't have a choice." "You had the choice to leave." For a second the room went completely still except for the sound of the water running in the sink. Lyra swallowed, staring down at the dishes so no one would see her face. Right. Leave my own house. Great option "You should eat something," he said quietly. "You look exhausted." "She can eat after the kitchen is done," Vera said before Lyra could answer. Wayne's jaw tightened just slightly, the only sign he'd even heard her. Then the smirk came back like nothing happened. For a second she thought he was going to say something, some joke, some comment, something to annoy her like usual. But he didn't. He picked up his plate and placed it on the white marble of the counter with a soft clink. His expression changed for a split second, the smirk gone, his green eyes hard in a way she hadn't seen before. Then it was gone just as fast. He left the room and everyone else started eating, and the room went back to normal too quiet, too tense, and feeling less like home than ever. Lyra picked up the towel again and turned back to the sink, staring at the running water so no one would see the look on her face.