Chapter 5

Elara’s POV

I barely slept that night. After ending the call with the hospital, I spent hours staring at the ceiling.

Someone believed I was connected to their family. The thought sounded ridiculous.

I was an orphan. At least, that was what I had believed for years. But after recovering my childhood memories, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

I remembered my parents, I remembered my brother, I remembered being taken away, and I remembered never finding my way back.

The next morning, I left the mansion before anyone could stop me.

The hospital wasn’t far. By the time I arrived, my palms were damp with nervousness.

A nurse greeted me at the reception desk.

“Miss Elara?”

“Yes.”

“Please follow me.”

She led me through several hallways before stopping outside a private consultation room.

My heartbeat quickened.

The nurse pushed the door open.

“Please go in.”

Then she left.

I stood there for several seconds before finally stepping inside.

Two men were already waiting. One was middle-aged. The other looked a few years older than me. The younger man’s back was turned toward the door.

The older man stood immediately upon seeing me. His eyes widened. For a moment, nobody spoke, then the younger man turned around and my world stopped.

My breathing caught not because I recognized his face but because I recognized his eyes.

Those eyes…

Suddenly, I remembered a little boy running after me in the garden.

“Wait for me, Ellie!”

He had tripped over his own feet and burst into tears when I laughed at him.

My vision blurred. No… It couldn’t be.

The younger man’s lips trembled. “Elara?”

My knees nearly gave out. “Big brother?”

The moment the words left my mouth, he broke. He crossed the room in seconds and pulled me into his arms.

I burst into tears. For years, I thought I had forgotten them. For years, I thought they had forgotten me.

But standing here now, none of that mattered because my brother was holding me like he was afraid I would disappear again.

“You’re alive,” he whispered hoarsely.

His voice cracked, “You’re really alive.”

I cried harder. The older man stood a few feet away, his eyes shining with tears.

He looked like he wanted to hug me too but was afraid that I wasn't real and I would disappear.

“Dad,” I whispered.

A broken sound escaped him then he pulled both of us into his arms. For several moments, nobody spoke. We simply stood there crying.

Years of grief, loss, and searching all crashed together at once.

Eventually, we sat down. My father couldn’t stop looking at me. Every few seconds, his eyes would fill with tears again.

“You look just like your mother,” he said quietly.

My throat tightened. I remembered her, not perfectly but enough.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

My brother exchanged glances with our father before he answered.

“Your blood type.”

I frowned. “What about it?”

“It’s extremely rare.”

My father nodded. “After you disappeared, we registered your blood type with hospitals all over the country.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“We never stopped looking for you,” His voice shook, “Not for a single day.”

Tears burned my eyes again.

My brother leaned forward. “We made arrangements years ago. If anyone with your blood type was ever admitted to a hospital, we wanted to know immediately.”

I stared at them. All these years, all this time they had been searching.

“I thought you abandoned me,” I admitted quietly.

My father’s face crumpled. “Never.”

The answer came instantly without hesitation.

“Never, Elara.” His voice broke completely, “We searched everywhere.”

I looked away quickly before I started crying again. My brother reached for my hand.

“What happened after they took you?” he asked.

The room grew quiet. Slowly, I told them everything I could remember.

The kidnapping, my escape, living on the streets, the orphanage, the years I couldn't remember, the accident, and the memories returning.

Neither of them interrupted. By the time I finished, both men looked devastated.

My father looked especially guilty. “This never should have happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

“It was,” he insisted, his jaw tight with anger, “I should have protected you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I simply squeezed his hand. For the first time, a small smile appeared on his face.

Then my brother suddenly asked, “Where are you living now?”

The room fell silent as I hesitated.

“I’m married,” I finally admitted.

Both men immediately stiffened.

“Married?” my brother repeated.

I nodded.

My father frowned. “Are you happy?”

The question hit harder than I expected because for the first time, I actually thought about it.

Was I happy? From everything Mira told me… No. Not even close.

I lowered my eyes and my brother looked furious while my father looked heartbroken but neither of them pushed further.

Instead, my father reached across the table and took my hand.

“Come home with us.”

My throat tightened. For years, I had dreamed of hearing those words.

Come home, not an orphanage, not a mansion that felt like a prison but home… My own home.

Tears filled my eyes again. “I want to.”

My father’s face softened. “Then come.”

I looked down at our joined hands. For the first time in years, I finally had a family. I finally had somewhere to belong but there was still one thing I needed to do.

I lifted my head. “Give me one day.”

My brother frowned. “One day for what?”

I met his gaze steadily then I answered.

“To end my marriage.”