Tyler stepped into the real estate office, the door chime giving a soft jingle as he entered.
The interior was modern and pristine, with sleek chairs, glass tables, and digital screens scrolling through high-end listings on the far wall.
But he barely noticed any of that—his eyes were locked on the woman sitting near the window, fidgeting slightly with her fingers, her gaze distant.
His mother.
Helena Reyes looked up the moment she sensed his presence. Her eyes—warm but weighed with concern—softened when she saw him.
Tyler walked over and sat beside her quietly. She reached out, gently squeezing his hand. Her voice was so low, it was barely a whisper.
"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?"
Tyler smiled gently, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah. I'm sure, Mom. Don't worry."
But of course, she would worry. Tyler could feel it radiating from her—the hesitation, the anxiety, the disbelief.
It wasn't just about the money. It was everything. Her sixteen-year-old son was about to buy a house—a luxury home. And not just any house, but one that goes up for millions of dollars.
To a woman who had spent most of her life stretching every paycheck, that wasn't just expensive. It was even beyond unreal.
To Helena, this felt like standing at the edge of a dream that could either turn into a miracle… or fall apart into something unexplainable.
She had worked multiple jobs all her life, just to keep food on the table. She'd gone without new shoes for years, worn out her body cleaning other people's homes, and endured humiliating customers just to make ends meet. Now, out of nowhere, her son was whispering figures she couldn't even process.
Five million dollars. In a little over a month.
Even after everything Tyler and David had explained to her—that the money came from legal, clever trading algorithms, that everything was properly structured under registered companies, that they were protected—she still struggled to make peace with it. It wasn't that she didn't trust Tyler.
It was that it felt like too much. Too fast. Too impossible.
And yet… here they were.
Tyler saw his mom go silent, and he could already guess what she was thinking. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Mom. You deserve this. All of it. More, even. I mean it."
Helena blinked and looked at him, her eyes glistening just slightly. She nodded quietly and composed herself, brushing down her blouse.
Tyler smiled again and turned to face the real estate agent who had just entered the room.
"Good afternoon," Tyler said, extending his hand. "I'm Tyler Reyes. Thanks for waiting."
The agent—mid-40s, well-dressed, and clearly experienced—shook Tyler's hand while doing a double-take.
He had been told by Helena that her son was coming, but he was was clearly not expecting his new client to be a teenager in a hoodie and jeans.
He glanced at Helena, then back at Tyler. He felt like he was seeing things wrong but he knew that this was all real.
"Of course, Mr. Reyes," the agent said smoothly, his smile never faltering, though his eyes betrayed his curiosity.
"My name's Allen. I'll be assisting you today. Is there a specific budget or range you're aiming for?"
Tyler nodded casually. "Yeah. Something in the $3.5 million range."
Allen froze.
"…Pardon?"
"You heard me," Tyler said calmly. "$3.5 million. I'd like to see what's available at or just below that number."
Allen stared at him for a full second before recovering with a practiced grin. "Certainly. I'll pull up a list."
He walked to his desk and returned a moment later with a sleek leather-bound dossier.
As he handed it over, his gaze lingered again on Tyler, as if trying to see through the boy and into the mind behind those calm eyes.
But Tyler didn't give him anything. Just a polite nod.
He turned the dossier to Helena. "You choose, Mom."
She blinked. "Me?"
"Yeah. Pick whichever you like."
Helena hesitated, flipping through the pages with a hand that trembled just a bit. "They're all… they're so expensive, Tyler."
"I told you not to worry about the cost. Pick what you like. I want you to love where we live."
Helena looked at him again. It was hard to believe that this confident, composed young man was her son—the same boy who had once saved lunch money just to buy her a Mother's Day gift.
Eventually, her gaze returned to the pages, and she sighed, as she started going through them more slowly.
They saw mansions with indoor theaters, gated villas with personal vineyards, penthouses overlooking the city skyline. But one particular listing caught her eye.
She stopped on a property located in Hawthorne Crest, a quiet, upscale neighborhood tucked between tree-lined roads and guarded perimeters.
It wasn't the most flamboyant option, but it had everything—class, serenity, and charm.
It was a 5-bedroom modern luxury home sitting on nearly an acre of land, with clean architectural lines, wraparound glass windows, and warm stone accents.
8,200 sq ft interior space.
State-of-the-art kitchen with Italian marble countertops and integrated appliances.
Heated infinity pool overlooking a private garden.
Master suite with a walk-in closet the size of a bedroom.
Detached guesthouse.
Smart-home system integrated throughout.
Custom soundproofed study and in-house gym.
The photos showed stunning views, open sunlit spaces, and the kind of luxury Helena had only seen on TV shows.
"…This one," she said softly. "This one feels… peaceful."
Tyler smiled. "Then that's the one."
Allen nodded in approval. "Excellent choice. That property is actually listed at $3.47 million. One of the best values currently on the market for its features and location."
"Good. Can we check it out now?" Tyler asked.
"Definitely," Allen nodded, with a smile.
...
Minutes later, the three of them were in Allen's sleek black sedan, making their way through winding hills toward Hawthorne Crest.
The moment the gates opened and they turned into the long, curved driveway, Helena's breath caught.
The house was even more beautiful in person.
Clean lines, tall windows, a perfect blend of stone and glass that made the building feel both grounded and ethereal. Lush landscaping wrapped around the property like nature's own velvet robe.
Allen gave them the full tour—showing the vaulted ceilings, the open-plan living room with retractable glass walls, the stunning kitchen, the cozy reading nook in the master bedroom.
Helena was visibly stunned.
"I don't even know how to live in a place like this," she whispered at one point.
Tyler chuckled lightly.
"You'll learn," he said, lightly squeezing his mom's shoulder.
An hour later, the deal was sealed. Tyler signed the necessary forms with confidence, and Helena—still overwhelmed but trusting her son—signed off as the legal occupant of the home.
The property documents were handed to them, alongside a heavy key fob and digital access codes.
It was theirs.
As they stood outside the house, under the soft afternoon sun, Helena clutched the key in her hand like it was too sacred to use. She looked at Tyler and pulled him into a hug.
"Thanks, sweetheart. You saved me, you know that?" she whispered. "In more ways than one."
Tyler closed his eyes for a moment, holding her tightly.
"No, Mom. You saved me. Every single day you didn't give up."
They stood there for a while, just mother and son, enjoying the moment.
And in that quiet moment outside their brand-new home, Tyler felt something he hadn't felt since he returned to this timeline.
Peace.