Chapter 3

'Finally,' thought Lara. It was 1985, and she was graduating from Wimbledon High School for Girls. At last, she was free from those snobby, bratty classmates.

Her school experience had been a kind of personal hell. She was constantly at odds with teachers and supervisors about the school uniform, and the drama between all these wealthy, noble-born girls felt straight out of an otome novel. Some of the lower-ranking noble girls tried to curry favor with her at their parents' insistence, hoping to benefit from the success of Croft Holdings. Meanwhile, others, coming from higher ranks, tried to show off their superiority. In those moments, Lara had to fight the urge to give them a lesson in "London manners" (namely, stabbing), but she maintained her self-control.

Lara suspected she might be a bit insane. Even the original Lara Croft from her memories must have had something wrong in her head—after all, the countless acts of violence and killing never seemed to weigh too heavily on her conscience.

Lara's development in training had progressed well. She no longer needed coaches. If someone were to help her improve now, it would have to be someone like Taskmaster or Hawkeye—top-tier specialists. Her former coaches had suggested she compete in the Olympics, insisting she could win dozens of gold medals, but Lara did not want that kind of attention or fame.

At just sixteen, Lara's strength, speed, reaction time, and durability were already at an Olympic level—or even beyond.

Academically, her studies also went well. The original Lara was already pretty gifted intellectually, but after the "incident," she became even more gifted. If she had focused solely on her studies, she could have finished high school years earlier. Even the original Lara could have done that. But she didn't want to give up her training, and she even allowed herself to slack off in academics because training was far more appealing to her.

"Lara Croft!" The call of her name snapped Lara out of her daydream. She stood up, made her way to the podium, and accepted her diploma from the principal, a woman of about fifty.

In a quiet tone, the principal said, "I can finally be rid of you." Lara had been a controversial student—troublesome, yet with excellent grades. Though Croft Holdings donated a considerable amount of money each year, the principal often wondered if it was worth all the headaches.

"I can say the same," Lara replied with a polite smile.

After giving a brief speech—and resisting the urge to tell everyone to go fuck themselves—Lara stepped down from the stage and left the ceremony behind.

Outside, Winston waited with two maids by a custom Rolls-Royce. She had commissioned this Rolls-Royce after buying enough shares to become a majority stakeholder.

She ran up to Winston and hugged him. "Winston, let's take a photo together."

"Alright, young lady. Mary, would you mind?" he asked one of the maids, who nodded.

After the photo was taken, they headed back to the manor. As soon as Lara stepped out of the car, she was caught in Ana's embrace.

"Congratulations, Lara," Ana said warmly being hard to know if she meant it.

Lara hugged her back, patting Ana's shoulder with a wry smile. They had "reconciled" about a year after Richard's assassination. Lara realized it was better to keep Ana close—to make Trinity think everything was fine and to monitor Ana carefully.

In the manor, Lara and Ana were served breakfast by the newly hired maids. After Winston brought them on board, he delegated most of the household chores to their capable hands, freeing himself to focus on managing Croft Holdings and Lara's various assets.

The maids ranged in age from thirty to sixty, and from what Lara observed, they were impressively strong and fit—far more so than typical domestic staff. She strongly suspected that these women were retired MI6 or S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Winston, it seemed, had connections that ran very deep.

Lara decided not to ask him about it, much as he never questioned her uncanny knowledge of which companies to invest in and which assets to acquire. 

"So, what do you want to do after high school?" Ana asked.

"Go to Gourdston Boarding School," Lara replied between bites. She was practically wolfing down her food, as usual—her appetite was large enough for two grown men. "I want to learn sailing, survival skills, climbing, and also work on my academics a bit more."

Ana nodded. "And after that?"

"Treasure hunting, and maybe lending a hand at Croft Holdings," Lara said, watching Ana's face for any reaction. Seeing no immediate change, she continued, "And maybe I'll help clear my father's reputation and finish his research." At that mention, Ana's expression tightened, and she couldn't quite hide a frown.

"How about going to a finishing school in Switzerland, then marrying Lukas and starting a family?" Ana suggested. "Your father would have wanted that. Lukas is the son of a duke."

Lara looked at Ana and said, "Good joke," before finishing her meal. As she stood up, she gave Ana's back a firm pat—perhaps a bit too hard—and walked off laughing. After Lara left, Ana winced and rubbed the sore spot on her back. Noticing the maids watching, she snapped, "What are you looking at?"

The maids smiled innocently and went back to their work, though they were secretly amused. As Lara suspected, most of them had backgrounds in MI6, and a few from S.H.I.E.L.D. All had retired after starting families or due to injuries. They worked for Lara because Winston offered them extremely generous salaries—over a hundred thousand pounds. Based on their intuition and observation, they knew Ana belonged to some other organization. From what they had seen, the young lady knew this too and was merely toying with her.