You were a Stilinski, the daughter of Claudia and Noah Stilinski, and the twin sister of Stiles. You had grown up alongside Stiles and Scott, the three of you inseparable, always caught up in some kind of chaos. But when it came time for high school, you made a different choice. You were exceptionally gifted, even smarter than Stiles, which was no small feat. Your intelligence led you to attend a special school for gifted students in another town.

Years passed, and you hardly ever returned home. Contact was minimal; phones were strictly prohibited at your school, and even letters became rare. For Stiles, Scott, and Noah, you had become more of a memory, a face in old family photos that had slowly begun to fade. You had always been the little girl with glasses, slightly overweight, with an uncertain smile. No one really knew what you looked like now.

Back in Beacon Hills, life had continued without you. Now, years later, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Kira, Malia, Liam, Derek Hale, and Sheriff Noah Stilinski were gathered in the Stilinski living room. The room was chaotic, the tension thick in the air. The latest problem, the mysterious death list, weighed heavily on everyone. They were all deep in thought, making plans, and the atmosphere was heavy with unease.

Amidst the commotion, Noah had almost forgotten to mention something. You would be coming home today – it was the holidays, and you had announced your return. But before Noah could share this with the others, the soft clinking of a key in the door lock interrupted the room.

Everyone fell silent. The conversation ceased. The door slowly creaked open.