Anna’s life has always been a journey of survival. Born with bipolar disorder and lost as a child, she was taken in by a struggling farmer’s family who never truly accepted her. Ridiculed, unloved, and married off to a man who despised her, Anna’s world seemed destined for hardship. Yet, through it all, she held onto the small kindness shown by her adoptive father, the only beacon of hope in her bleak existence. Fifteen years later, Anna's talent as a dancer catches the eye of a wealthy audience at the Edgewood Group’s annual Christmas party. But it’s not just her performance that turns heads—it’s the birthmark under her arm and the locket around her neck, the very signs her long-lost grandmother has been searching for. Suddenly, Anna is thrust into a life she could have never imagined, reclaiming her true identity as the heir to a powerful empire. As Anna navigates the complexities of her newfound wealth and status, she must confront her painful past, including the toxic marriage she was forced into and the mental health struggles she has battled alone. With the support of her grandmother, Anna begins to forge a new path, discovering her strength and resilience. "Finding Anna" is a poignant tale of identity, redemption, and the enduring power of hope. Follow Anna’s journey from the streets of hardship to the heights of power as she learns to embrace her true self and reclaim the life she was meant to live.
View More“Welcome back, Miss Anna,” Lydia said, taking the bags from my hands before I could protest. She was always like that—quietly efficient, never allowing me to do too much myself.“Thanks, Lydia. It’s good to be home,” I replied, though my voice felt hollow. Home. This house used to feel like that, but now... now it just felt like an empty shell, haunted by my grandmother’s absence.“I picked up some groceries on the way,” I added as she took my things.“I’ll take care of them,” she said, her hands already full but still moving with that same quiet grace.I was about to head toward my chambers when I heard it—a sound that shouldn’t have been there. A rustling, followed by the faint thud of something heavy being moved. My brows furrowed. It was coming from my grandmother’s chambers.Her room. The room that was supposed to be mine now, but I couldn’t bring myself to move into it. It had been two months since she passed, and I still refused to rearrange the mansion or even touch her belong
I sat quietly beside my mother, watching her frail hands resting on the blanket. There was something unsettling about seeing her so vulnerable. A woman who, once upon a time, was full of life, now appeared fragile and worn. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt rush over me. I should have been here more often. But, then again, when had I ever been good at staying?I was deep in thought when the door opened, and someone stepped inside. I turned my head and froze for a second, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. It was the nurse- that nurse- the one I had been flirting with outside the nurse’s station earlier today.Her name was Jennifer. I’d seen her outside my mother’s room and we’d exchanged flirtatious glances, harmless small talk, and a few compliments. But seeing her now, walking into my mother’s room, caught me off guard.“Well, well, Jennifer,” I said, my voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect to see you here.”She smiled politely, though her eyes held a flicker of
I stood outside the door for an eternity, my hand shaking before the handle. The last time I visited my mother was brief, awkward, and honestly, unremarkable. It had been Anna who insisted on keeping my mother here, in this place, tho safe, comfortable, well taken care of. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Anna had taken care of so much. More than I deserved, to be honest.Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open gently. The room was beautiful, and tastefully decorated, with nice flowers and warm light spilling from the large window that had the view of the garden. A slight breeze moved the curtains, letting in the faint scent of jasmine. My mother lying in bed with her thin, frail body swallowed by the thick knit blanket draped over her body. She didn’t notice me at first, but when I cleared my throat, she turned, and the surprise in her eyes was… too much.Her gaze locked onto mine, wide with total disbelief, almost as if she were looking at a ghost. I felt a pang of guilt in my che
It had been a while since I’d visited Mrs. Idris, and as I walked through the quiet halls of the nursing home, a heavy sense of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. The scent of antiseptic mixed with the faint smell of lavender drifted through the air, and I found myself clenching and unclenching my fists to keep my nerves at bay.Mrs. Idris had been under my guardianship ever since her health began to decline. I’d ensured she was taken care of, well-fed, comfortable, and treated with the respect she deserved. But I hadn’t been here as much as I should have lately. With everything happening—my grandmother’s death, the business responsibilities—I had let too much time slip by. I entered her room quietly. The pale yellow curtains let in a soft, golden light that bathed the room in warmth. Mrs. Idris lay on her bed, propped with pillows, her frail frame barely making an impression under the blankets. Her eyes fluttered open as she heard the door click shut.“Mrs. Idris,” I called sof
It had been a week since that unsettling lunch with Henry, where I saw the woman staring at me through the window. The memory still played in my mind, a gnawing discomfort at the back of my thoughts. I hadn't mentioned it to Henry, trying to brush it off as a coincidence, but I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that her eyes were filled with something more than curiosity. Today, however, all of that would come to light.I was sitting in the library, going through some paperwork, when the housekeeper knocked on the door, her voice timid. “Miss Anna, there’s someone at the door asking for you. She says her name is Lara.”I froze, my pen hovering over the page. Lara. The woman from the restaurant. I cleared my throat, setting the papers aside. “Send her in.”As the housekeeper left, my heart raced, my thoughts swirling. What could she possibly want? And why now?Moments later, Lara entered the room. She looked different from that day—worn, perhaps, but with a determined expression. She
Sitting across from Henry at the small, cozy café, I couldn’t help but smile as the afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the kind of place that made you forget about the world outside. We had been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, letting time slip by unnoticed as we enjoyed each other's company.Henry looked at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes, his fingers gently playing with the rim of his coffee cup. “You know, Anna, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. The way he said it, like it was a fact he couldn’t help but notice, made my cheeks flush.I let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the compliment, but he wasn’t having it.“No, really,” he continued, leaning in slightly. “You have this light about you. The kind that draws people in. I’ve felt it since the moment I first saw you.”I glanced down at my plate, suddenly feeling shy. "Henry, stop, you’re making me blush.”B
I was awoken by the soft clinking of china against the tray beside me. At first, the sound felt distant, like it was part of a dream, but as my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by the golden rays of the morning sun streaming in through the curtains. The warmth of the light made everything feel soft like the world was wrapped in a comforting glow. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, and then I saw him.Henry was standing by the bed, a small, proud smile playing on his lips as he arranged the tray on the bedside table. His eyes caught mine, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He had asked the maid to prepare breakfast for us, the thoughtful gesture warming me from the inside. The smell of fresh tea and warm croissants filled the room, making the moment feel even more surreal and peaceful.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Henry whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. His lips lingered for a second longer as if he was savoring the simplicity of the mome
I sat at the edge of the bed, dressed in the black gown I hadn’t taken off in days. It had been two months since Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, the woman who had been like a mother to me, passed away. And I hadn’t left my room since the funeral. The outside world felt distant, like a memory that no longer belonged to me. My world had shrunk to the size of this room, this bed. I couldn’t shake the hollow emptiness that settled in my chest like a permanent weight. Grief had consumed me, and with each passing day, it grew harder to remember what it was like to feel anything else.The door creaked open, and I glanced up just in time to see Henry stepping inside. His face softened the moment he saw me, concern etched into every line of his expression. He walked slowly toward me, as though afraid that too much movement might cause me to break."Hey," he said softly, sitting down on the bed next to me. His presence was calming and familiar, and for a moment, I felt a small spark of warmth.“Hey,”
"Are you ready, Anna? To serve Samuel his divorce papers?" His voice was gentle as if he could sense my hesitation.I nodded slowly, unable to find the words. This was it. After years of suffering, I was finally taking back my life. The papers felt heavy in my hands, symbolic of every battle I had endured. Every tear, every sleepless night.The maid, standing by the door, glanced at Mr. Mike, awaiting his signal. "Go and call Mr. Samuel. He’s in the guest house," he instructed.I could hear the faint thump of music coming from the guest house, the sound of Samuel’s "good life." The man I had married had turned into a stranger, indulging in the company of others, in everything that had nothing to do with me. I had long since stopped wondering where I went wrong because I knew now—it was never about me.I glanced toward my grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, lying weakly in her bed. She had been my rock through all of this, her frail hands still able to hold my spirit together even as
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