It had been a week since Elena woke up from her coma. Her days passed quietly in Nathan’s mansion—a place that felt unfamiliar, even though everyone around her seemed to know her so well.

That morning, Elena sat in the family room, gazing at the garden through the large glass window. The air felt fresh, but her mind remained clouded with questions. A cup of tea sat in her hand, long gone cold. She hadn’t touched it.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Grandma Clara entered, followed by ...