10

Elara’s Pov

Seraphina let out a loud, broken sob, her hands flying up to cover her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. Ronan immediately stepped forward and pulled her into a tight, protective embrace, resting his chin on top of her head while his own eyes shone bright with unshed tears. Over by the window, Kael stood completely still. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might break, and his broad shoulders shook slightly as he struggled to contain the emotions he had spent twenty-four years burying beneath his cold security duties.

Silas stepped closer to the bed, holding out the paperwork gently. He explained the results in a calm, patient voice, making sure I understood every single detail. He told me that the DNA match was one hundred percent certain, connecting our bloodlines beyond any shadow of a doubt.

I stared down at the printed report, my finger slowly tracing the ink lines. I wanted to feel like a daughter. I wanted to feel like a sister. But staring at the page, I still felt like a ghost standing outside a warm window, looking in at a family gathering I didn't belong to.

"Are you... are you completely sure?" I whispered, looking up at Silas with wide, frightened eyes. "Could there be a mix-up? Could the hospital labs have made an error?"

Silas offered a soft, understanding smile, his eyes filled with a deep, patient warmth. "There is no mistake, Elara. We used three different independent labs just to be 100 percent sure. But if it makes you feel safer, we can arrange another test tomorrow, or next week. Take all the time you need."

Kael finally moved away from the window. He walked slowly to the side of my bed, looking down at me with an intensity that made my chest tighten.

"Listen to me, Elara," Kael said, his voice deep, firm, and steady. "Nobody expects you to erase your past. We don't expect you to wake up tomorrow morning and suddenly feel like you've known us your whole life. But I want you to know one thing—from this second on, you will never, ever have to wonder whether you belong somewhere. You have a home. You have people who would tear the world apart to keep you safe."

Because I was still recovering from the crash, the family decided to celebrate the confirmation quietly right there in the hospital room. Ronan pulled out his phone and ordered a massive meal from an expensive restaurant known for preparing Seraphina's favorite childhood dishes, hoping that a familiar family tradition might make the day feel a little less overwhelming.

When the food arrived, something surprising happened. Instead of telling me what I had to eat—like Octavia always did—Ronan, Silas, and Seraphina all looked at me and asked what *I* wanted.

"What sounds good to you, Elara?" Ronan asked, holding up the menus. "We can get anything. Don't hold back."

I sat there blinking, completely tongue-tied. For eight years in the Rooke mansion, my meals were chosen for me based on what looked proper or healthy for a billionaire's household. I had spent so long accommodating other people's preferences that I had completely forgotten how to want things for myself.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, looking down at my hands. "Just... a simple bowl of soup is fine."

Silas let out a loud, dramatic groan, throwing his hands up in the air. "A bowl of soup?! Absolutely not! We just recovered a missing heiress from the Veyne dynasty, and you want to celebrate with basic hospital soup? I refuse to allow it!"

His silly complaint made Ronan burst out laughing, and even Kael let out a low chuckle. The sound of their laughter filled the sterile white room, making it feel almost ordinary. For a brief, wonderful second, I smiled a real, genuine smile—the first one I had smiled since the accident. I wondered if this was what it actually felt like to belong to a family that wanted your presence rather than merely tolerates it.

But the warm bubble popped the second Seraphina reached out and gently touched my arm.

"Once the doctors give us the green light," Seraphina said softly, her eyes shining with hope, "we can finally bring you home to the estate, Elara. Your room has been waiting for you for twenty-four years. We'll set up everything just the way you like it."

My body instantly stiffened. The word home scraped against my raw nerves like sandpaper.

I pulled back slightly, shaking my head. "Seraphina... I... I can't," I whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I appreciate everything you've done. I know the DNA test says we're related. But I can't just pack up and move into a stranger's massive house simply because a piece of paper says I belong there. I need space. I need time."

The hurt on Seraphina's face was immediate, sharp, and heartbreaking. Her lower lip quivered, and for a second, I felt like a monster for rejecting her. But she quickly blinked back the tears, forcing a brave, understanding smile to her lips.

"I'm sorry, Elara," Seraphina whispered, her voice cracking as she pulled her hand back. "You're right. I'm moving too fast. Take as much time as you need. We won't rush you."

Kael stepped in, giving me a reassuring nod. "She's right, Elara. Take all the time you want. But we will arrange the absolute best private care for you here until you're strong enough to decide what you want to do with your future."

The rest of the evening passed quietly. The family stayed with me until visiting hours ended, talking softly, sharing small memories, and treating me with a level of care and respect I had never experienced in my entire life. When they finally kissed my forehead and walked out the door, the room fell into a heavy, peaceful silence.

I lay back against the pillows, staring up at the dark ceiling. I had a family now. I was a Veyne heiress. The orphan girl who was told nobody wanted her actually came from one of the most powerful dynasties in the world. It sounded like a dream come true.

Then, my phone buzzed sharply on the small bedside table.

I jumped slightly, breaking my train of thought. I reached over, picked up the glowing screen, and unlocked it. It was a text message from an unknown number.

“Are you safe?” the message asked.

My heart skipped a beat. For a terrifying second, my mind flashed back to the dark SUV chasing me on the highway. Was it Darian? Was it someone from Rooke Global?

Before I could lock the phone, a second notification popped up from the exact same number. It was an image file.

My fingers trembled as I tapped the screen to open the photograph. The image loaded slowly, revealing a candid picture taken outside. It showed my eight-year-old daughter, Lyra, sitting on a wooden bench at her school playground, her head bowed down, looking sad and lonely as she clutched her pink backpack.

Beneath the photo was a short, sharp line of text that hit my chest like a physical bullet:

“Your daughter has been asking for you every single day.”

Breath rushed out of my lungs. Tears instantly blinded my eyes as panic clawed at my throat. I clutched the phone tightly to my chest, the cold metal pressing against my ribs, suddenly remembering a heartbreaking truth.

Even though I had finally discovered the powerful family I lost twenty-four years ago... I had also left behind the little girl I had loved with every breath since the moment she was born.