It was only day two since Vynara, the wayward daughter of Artemisa Volnero, had returned to her childhood home after vanishing for twenty years. So much had changed since she'd left like a thief in the night.
Her mother and twin sister, Loana, did their best to make her feel at home, to make her feel loved—but it wasn't working. And it wasn't for a lack of trying. No, it was the weight of the countless choices Vynara had made, those unspeakable decisions that led her through the galaxy in search of freedom—real freedom—that had left their mark.
Coming home after two decades of drifting from one planet to another had been one of the hardest choices she'd ever made. She had never found what she was searching for. And now, standing in the same space she'd left behind, she was still far from ready to confess her sins. To fully embrace the damage she had caused in her absence was beyond her, especially now, knowing her father had passed years ago—leaving her without a chance to ask for his forgiveness.
That weighed on her like a lump of iron pressing down on her chest. Just one of the lumps, anyway. But right now, there was something darker, something more shameful that she was fighting to keep secret—the kind of secret she knew her mother would never forgive.
It was late in the evening when she finally returned to her childhood bedroom, her movements stiff, her body fighting against the tremors that had started again. This time, the shakes were different—deeper, harder to control, as though they came from somewhere deep inside her bones.
She hadn't even reached the edge of her bed, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, when a soft knock interrupted her isolation. She didn't answer. She couldn't. She didn't want anyone to see her this broken.
But then Loana, her twin, entered without waiting. Her presence was a quiet, calming force, like the steady pulse of the earth beneath them.
"Vynara," Loana's voice was soft, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. She knelt beside her, her hand resting gently on her sister's shoulder. "You're not okay right now, and that's alright."
Vynara didn't respond, too ashamed to look her in the eye, but Loana didn't move, her touch firm and unwavering.
"Let me help you," she whispered.
Without waiting for a protest, Loana guided her to the lavish bathroom, where the steam from a warm bath began to fill the room with the scent of calming oils. Vynara stood there, staring at the water as if it were a foreign thing, while Loana unfolded snowy soft towels, wrapping one around her sister's shoulders as if to cocoon her from the world.
Vynara could feel the tension in her muscles, like a taut wire just waiting to snap, as Loana gently peeled away the layers of clothing. She wanted to fight it—wanted to pull away and escape, but she couldn't bring herself to move. It felt like the shame was too thick to let her go anywhere.
When Loana guided her into the bath, the warmth of the water seemed to loosen something inside her. Tiny shifts of tension, imperceptible to anyone else, but to Loana, it was enough—a deep breath from her sister, a soft exhale.
"It's been so long since anyone… since anyone's cared like this," Vynara whispered, the words barely a breath. Her voice cracked, and Loana saw the first tear slip down her cheek, falling into the bathwater and mingling with it.
Loana's hand gently squeezed Vynara's. "I'm here, Vy. You're safe with me," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her sister's face. After a long, quiet moment, she added, her voice soft but firm, "What have you been taking, Vynara? Just tell me, no judgment."
Vynara hesitated, the weight of her shame pressing down. It felt like the words were trapped in her throat, a bitter knot she couldn't untangle. But Loana's unwavering care cracked something open inside her. Slowly, painfully, she confessed.
"Void Nectar. Cosmira Dust," Vynara whispered, the words heavy and bitter on her tongue.
Her sister's breath caught in her throat. She remembered the assignment from last year, covering the opioid epidemic emerging on Krypton. Void Nectar was a hallucinogenic liquid, allowing its users to escape reality—to lose all sense of time and memory. And Cosmira Dust…
The thought of it made her stomach turn. A substance that heightened pleasure—but at the cost of anxiety, paranoia. Vynara had fallen into the depths of them both, and Loana knew that the same drugs, along with others—Neon Dust, Nova Blaze—had likely made their way into her sister's life long before this confession.
Loana squeezed her sister's hand tighter, her voice a mix of sorrow and warmth. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "This is the first step, Vy. You don't have to go through this alone."
She reached for another soft towel, wrapping it around Vynara's shoulders like a shield. "We're going to get you help. One step at a time."
Vynara closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Please don't tell Mother. Not yet. I couldn't bear it if I broke her heart a second time."
Loana gazed at her sister. The physical transformation was evident—Vynara had done everything to distance herself from her past. The violet hair, the piercings, the tattoos—more than rebellion. It was an attempt to erase everything she'd once been, especially the face of her twin. Still, Loana knew that the first step to healing would be getting Vynara to admit the truth to their mother.
"I think you should tell her as soon as possible," Loana said, her voice firm but kind. "But for now, we'll take it one step at a time. Let's just get you through tonight. You tried going cold turkey, didn't you?"
Vynara nodded, barely able to meet her sister's gaze. "When I decided to come home, I didn't want anyone to know about the last twenty years. I thought if I stopped taking the drugs, it would be easier. But it's only harder."
Loana sighed deeply. "Sis, you should never go cold turkey. It only makes the withdrawal worse. We need to get you into a healing haven. They'll help you—not just with the addiction, but with everything. Mentally, emotionally… we can't do this alone."
Vynara stared down into the bath, her heart heavy. "But how do I tell Mother without destroying her?"
Loana's voice softened, full of resolve. "I'll be there with you. We'll get through this together. Tonight, we'll write down what you can't say. That way, you don't have to speak it, but she'll know what's happening."
Vynara looked at Loana, torn between relief and dread. She couldn't bring herself to say it aloud—couldn't face the words. But the thought of her sister, steady and unwavering, gave her the strength to nod.
And so, that's what they did. The next morning, Vynara's hand trembled as she held the letter—its weight somehow heavier than anything she'd ever carried. She hesitated for a long moment before handing it to their mother, with the strict instruction that it was for her eyes only.
Artemisa read the letter in silence, her violet eyes clouding with disappointment. For a fleeting moment, Vynara saw the years of hurt and confusion in her mother's gaze, but then, without a word, Artemisa crossed the room and enveloped her in a hug. "It's alright," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Convincing Vynara to go to the local healing haven hadn't been easy, but under the condition that no one else would find out, Artemisa used her influence to register Vynara under a different name, paying the staff to keep quiet. The next three months would be difficult, but Loana and Artemisa promised to visit as often as they could.
They hoped, in time, Vynara would heal—not just from the addiction, but from everything she'd tried to outrun. With each step, they'd all begin to heal.