Elara's POV

The ceiling was off.

Not in some dramatic, falling-apart way—just... wrong.

That was the first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open. Not the pounding in my head. Not the unfamiliar bed beneath me. Just that: the ceiling was unfamiliar.

This wasn’t home.

Where was I?

I blinked slowly. Once. Again. Things sharpened like someone was adjusting a blurry photo. Cream-colored walls. Elegant furniture. A chandelier overhead—big, glassy, probably worth more than a year’s rent.

Definitely not my place.

My heart picked up speed. Quick. Loud. Uncomfortable.

The baby.

My hand flew to my stomach before I could even think. Please. Please let it be okay.

I tried to sit up. The second I moved, the room tilted hard. My head swam, vision going all smeared at the edges.

“Oh my God!”

Footsteps thundered in.

“She’s awake! She’s finally awake!”

The door burst open and three people rushed in. Two women, one man, all of them staring at me like I was some kind of miracle.

I forced myself up anyway, dizzy or not. I had to know. I had to make sure.

“Ma’am, please….take it easy!” One of the women came over fast. She looked around my mother’s age, with soft eyes and a voice that tried to be calming. But I didn’t know her. Never seen her.

“Who are you?” My voice felt raw. Dry. Like it hadn’t been used in weeks.

“I’m Mrs. Chen,” she said, staying close but gentle. “I’ve been caring for you.”

Caring for me?

“What is this place?” I looked around again. Every corner of the room looked expensive. Not just fancy, but also intimidating.

“You’re at the master’s residence,” the man answered. His uniform was sharp, formal. He stood like someone used to following orders.

Master?

“What happened?” I asked, my hand still covering my belly. Everything felt okay. No pain. But I needed more than just a feeling.

They shared a quick look.

“You were in an accident,” Mrs. Chen said softly. “A car accident. You’ve been unconscious for a month.”

A month?

The words didn’t land all at once. It took a second. Then they hit like a truck.

A month of my life….was….gone?

“My baby,” I breathed. “Is the baby okay?” I asked louder, barely hearing myself through the ringing in my ears.

Mrs. Chen stepped closer. “Yes,” she said quickly, her voice firm. “The baby’s perfectly fine.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. I didn’t even care if they saw. Relief hit so hard I thought I might faint all over again.

“We’ve all been praying for you,” the younger woman said quietly. She looked about my age. Her expression was open, kind.

I frowned. “Why would you pray for me? You don’t even know me.”

They exchanged another one of those glances.

“The young master brought you here,” Mrs. Chen explained, watching me carefully. “He’s been very concerned. He stayed by your side for the first two weeks.”

Young master.

There it was again.

"Who is this young master?" I asked. "And why would he bring me here? I don’t know anyone…” I paused, searching for the right words. “…especially not someone with money like this."

The man stepped closer. "He found you after the crash. You were unconscious. He brought you here so you'd get the best care."

From the hospital? That didn’t make sense.

“I need to go,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I have to find a place to stay. Get back on my feet.”

“Ma’am, please,” Mrs. Chen said, stepping in quickly. “You’re not ready to leave yet.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. My head throbbed, and my limbs felt like they were made of wet sand. But I couldn’t just stay here. Wherever here even was.

“You’ve been unconscious for a full month,” the younger woman said, voice gentle. “Your body needs time.”

“I’m grateful,” I said, pushing up slowly. The room shifted under my feet, and I gripped the bedpost to steady myself. “Really. But I can’t stay here. I don’t even know who this guy is.”

“You can’t leave until he returns,” the man said, firmer this time.

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s not like I’m a prisoner.” Though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“It’s not like that,” Mrs. Chen said quickly. “He’s just… been very worried about you. He’ll want to know you’re alright.”

“But I don’t know him,” I said again. “Why would someone like that care about me?”

They all looked at me….it was too long, too quiet. Like I’d just asked something impossible.

“He’s not a stranger,” the younger woman said carefully.

“Then who is he?”

“He’s…” Mrs. Chen hesitated. “He’s the one who saved you. Paid for everything. Your care, your recovery…”

“I’ll pay him back,” I cut in. “Once I get a job. Once I figured things out. Just give me his number and I’ll—”

“Ma’am,” the man interrupted. “You really shouldn’t leave before he returns.”

“When’s he coming back?”

“Soon,” Mrs. Chen said. “He’s away for business, but he’ll return any day now.”

Soon. That told me nothing. My stomach tightened. I didn’t want to meet this man. I didn’t want to owe him anything.

“Look,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I appreciate what he’s done. I really do. But I need to go. I need to get my life in order.”

“Your life?” the younger woman asked, but something in her voice shifted.

Mrs. Chen shot her a look. It was quick and sharp.

“What about my life?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Mrs. Chen said, too fast. “She just meant you need rest.”

But they were hiding something. I could see it all over their faces.

“I’ll write down a number,” I said. “He can call me when he’s back. I’ll thank him properly. But I can’t stay here.”

“You don’t remember?” the man asked suddenly.

“Remember what?”

Now they were all staring like I was some kind of unsolved puzzle.

“The young master,” Mrs. Chen said gently. “Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

“I told you. I’ve never met him.”

“But…” The younger woman looked almost heartbroken. “How can you not know your own—”

“Lily,” Mrs. Chen snapped.

Lily. So that was her name.

“My own what?” I pressed.

Lily looked down. Mrs. Chen looked at the man. The man looked anywhere but at me.

“Nothing,” Mrs. Chen said. “You’re just still recovering. Accidents can mess with memory.”

But I remembered everything. The divorce papers. Ivan’s cold stare. Rebecca, standing there like she’d won. The way he told me I was worthless.

I remembered stepping into the street. The blare of a horn. Headlights. Impact.

“I need to know,” I said, voice low. “Who is this man? This young master?”

They exchanged those looks again. Like they were deciding who’d speak.

“He’s…” Mrs. Chen started.

“He’s the one who’s been taking care of you,” the man finished for her.

“That’s not what I asked,” I said. “What’s his name? How do I know him?”

Silence.

Thick, crawling silence.

“Ma’am,” Mrs. Chen said finally, careful like she was stepping on glass. “Maybe just lie down for now. He’ll be home soon. He can tell you everything himself.”

“No,” I said. “I want to know now. Who is this man?”