Rebirth: The Sweetest Ruin

They said she'd gone mad.

But madness wasn't what Elara Voss felt as she was dragged out of the penthouse in silk and stilettos, her nails clawing into hardwood floors, mascara streaking down her cheeks. No — what she felt was betrayal. Utter, soul-ripping betrayal.

"Damien, please! You know I'd never do that to you…please, don't let them take me!"

But he just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable. Selene hovered at his side, her expression one of tearful concern.

"She's not well," Selene whispered, loud enough for the security guards and reporters gathered outside to hear. "She needs help. She's been… unstable for weeks."

Unstable.

That word echoed louder than the cuffs clinking around her wrists.

The headlines were even worse.

"Elara Voss Charged with Embezzlement and Assault—Sources Say She's Mentally Unwell."

"Blackwood CEO Damien Cuts Ties With Longtime Fiancée, Confirms Relationship With Adopted Sister Selene."

"Tragedy of a Golden Girl: From Heiress to Institution."

The psychiatric facility was cold and clean, but she could smell decay beneath the bleach. The nurses avoided her eyes. The doctors spoke in condescending tones.

And every time she screamed, "I didn't do it! They set me up!", it only added to her chart.

Delusional, paranoid and dangerous had taken the place of her name.

They pumped her with sedatives when she cried too loud. Bound her wrists when she fought too hard.

Time blurred. Her days were measured in pills and echoes. Her nights filled with nightmares of Damien's blank stare and Selene's pitiful smile.

Then the wedding photos came.

Smuggled in through a tabloid a kind orderly left behind.

Damien and Selene on a yacht in Santorini. Her red dress was repurposed for Selene's rehearsal dinner. The engagement ring Elara once wore now glittering on her sister's delicate hand.

It broke something inside her.

She stopped screaming.

She stopped eating.

Stopped talking altogether.

She stared at the pale green walls until they bled into her mind like mold. Her hair thinned. Her skin dulled. Her voice faded to a whisper.

And still, no one came for her.

No one ever would.

It was raining when the end came. A soft drizzle tapping against the high windows of her bare, sterile room, where she lay forgotten.

Elara lay still, frail and sunken, a shadow of the woman she once was.

One of her hands curled weakly around the frayed edge of the sheet. The other twitched now and then like it was reaching for something that had already left her behind.

Her lips moved, dry and cracked. No sound came out.

But if God was listening, He would have heard the silent plea in her heart:

'Please. Let me go back. Give me one more chance. I won't be blind again. I won't beg them to love me. Just let me rewrite this…Let me rewrite me.'

A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Then… nothing.

No nurses rushing in. No family holding her hand. Just the sound of rain.

And silence.

———

There was a bright flash of light.

The first thing she noticed was the warmth.

Followed by the feeling of soft sheets that might have just been under the sun, then drizzled with lavender scent. A quiet hum from outside…people?

Elara's eyes flew open.

She sat up, heart slamming against her ribs. Her hands were smooth. Her wrists unscarred and her hair long, thick, not hacked off during another "episode."

The walls around her weren't pale green.

They were lavender. Her childhood room.

Posters on the wall. Books stacked unevenly on the desk. A stuffed fox beside her pillow — the one her mother gifted her.

She gasped.

'The calendar.'

She scrambled toward it, nearly knocking over a lamp.

October 1st.

That was five years ago!

She rubbed her eyes and looked more closely to be sure she wasn't dreaming.

Holding her breath with both hope and fear, she opened her eyes again and gazed down at the unchanged date on the calendar.

It was real.

It was really five years before everything happened…

"Elara?" A gentle knock broke her train of thoughts.

The door creaked open.

Selene popped her head in.

She looked younger, smiling sweetly.

"You're up early. You okay?"

Elara stared at her, heart burning.

Truly, the devil didn't need to have horns…he could be a sweet girl with a beautiful smile.

Selene was still pretending to be the innocent girl she used to be, but Elara knew now. She remembered everything.

And this time, she would play along. She would smile.

And then she would burn them all down.