14

Elara’s Pov

Those faded words, written on my very first birthday after I was torn away from my family, echoed inside my head like a gentle song. They broke the last hard wall I had built around my heart. For twenty-four years, I had believed I was an unwanted orphan, dropped on a doorstep because nobody cared. But looking at that handwriting, I finally understood the truth. I was wanted. I was loved. And someone had spent decades praying for the day I would come back.

That single note changed everything. After Silas checked my vitals and confirmed my ribs were finally healing properly, I told Kael I was ready. I agreed to visit the Veyne estate—not to move in permanently, and not because I felt forced, but simply because my heart needed to see where that love lived.

Kael drove me in a discreet, quiet car, while Ronan and Silas went ahead to make sure the house wouldn't turn my arrival into a loud, overwhelming media event. When the massive iron gates of the estate slowly swung open, my breath hitched.

The property was breathtaking, stretching across rolling green hills with grand stone pathways and magnificent gardens. But what surprised me most was the absolute lack of cold formality. When we stepped out of the car, the staff members greeted me respectfully with warm, kind nods, never crowding or staring.

And standing near the grand front entrance was Seraphina.

She stood very still, her hands clasped tightly together, her face a mask of nervous hope. I could tell she had spent the entire morning arguing with herself over whether she should run up and hug me or give me space so I wouldn't run away.

I didn't make her wait. I took a deep breath, stepped forward across the stone steps, and closed the distance between us. Before she could even speak, I opened my arms.

Seraphina let out a choked gasp, stepping forward and pulling me into a gentle, trembling embrace. The contact felt unfamiliar and new, yet as her warm arms wrapped securely around my back, something inside me softened. I found myself resting my head against her shoulder, keeping my eyes closed and staying there for a few seconds longer than I originally planned.

Seraphina didn't make a big deal out of it. She didn't cry out in victory or try to turn the hug into a dramatic speech about belonging. She just held me, letting the moment happen naturally, letting me feel safe.

"Welcome home, Elara," she whispered softly against my hair.

Afterward, Ronan and Silas joined us, and the brothers gave me a guided tour of the massive estate. As we walked through the wide hallways, they pointed out the spots where they used to play, filling the air with funny childhood memories that made the giant house feel less intimidating and more like a real home.

"Don't let Ronan lie to you," Silas laughed, elbowing his second-oldest brother in the ribs. "He tells everyone I was the clumsy one, but when we were ten, Ronan tried to jump over a living room sofa and crashed right through a priceless antique table."

"Hey! That table was already unstable!" Ronan protested, his face turning bright red as Kael and I laughed.

Their playful bickering made me smile a wide, genuine smile. Watching them argue, I finally understood that the family I had discovered wasn't just a collection of powerful, intimidating people. They were real individuals who had spent years sharing memories and inside jokes—memories I had been cruelly robbed of, but memories I was suddenly invited to share.

Eventually, Seraphina led me up a wide, carpeted staircase to the second floor. She walked down a quiet corridor and stopped in front of a white wooden door painted with delicate little painted flowers.

"This... this is your room, Elara," Seraphina said softly, her voice trembling as she turned the brass knob. "I haven't changed a single thing since the day you disappeared. Some part of me... well, I could never bring myself to turn it into a guest room. I always believed you would come back."

She pushed the door open, and I stepped cautiously inside.

The breath completely left my lungs. The room looked like it had been frozen in time. Faded pastel drawings hung neatly on the walls. Shelves were lined with classic children's books, tiny pairs of shoes sat neatly in a small wooden wardrobe, and a fluffy stuffed rabbit rested inside a glass display case to keep it safe from dust.

It was a child's bedroom, preserved like a holy museum. Looking at it overwhelmed me because it represented a life I couldn't remember, a version of Elara Veyne that only existed in photographs and old daydreams. Yet, it also offered undeniable proof that my family had never, not for a single day, erased me from their lives.

I walked over slowly and sat down on the edge of the small, pink-sheeted bed. The mattress was soft, but a heavy wave of guilt suddenly washed over me.

"Why... why did you keep everything untouched for so long?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, terrified that her answer would make me feel worse for surviving without them. "Didn't it hurt too much to look at it?"

Seraphina walked over, sat down right beside me on the bed, and gently placed her hand over mine. "It did hurt, Elara," she answered honestly, her dark eyes shining with unshed tears. "Every single day. But we didn't preserve this room because we expected you to walk back through that door as a two-year-old child. We kept it because we wanted to make sure that no matter how much time passed, there was always a place waiting for you. A place that proved you belonged here."

That was the exact moment the final dam broke.

Tears spilled over my eyelashes, and I buried my face in my hands, sobbing hard. I let out all the years of loneliness, all the pain of being told I was ordinary, all the exhaustion of feeling unwanted. Seraphina pulled me tightly against her chest, letting me cry into her shoulder. Outside the open door, I heard the quiet, heavy footsteps of my brothers as they silently turned around and walked away, giving us the privacy we needed.

Later that evening, after Seraphina went downstairs to let me rest, I stayed in the room by myself, looking around the space that had been waiting for me for two decades.

On the bedside table, I noticed a small, beautifully carved wooden box. I opened it and found a collection of old photographs. I picked up a family portrait from the very bottom of the box.

In the picture, I was just a happy toddler sitting right on my father's lap, smiling brightly at the camera. Standing right behind us were Kael, Ronan, and Silas, crowding around us like protective bodyguards, grinning ear to ear.

I stared at their young faces, tracing my fingers over the photograph, trying to imagine what it would have felt like to grow up surrounded by so much love and laughter.

Suddenly, a soft, careful knock tapped against the open wooden door, breaking my thoughts.

I looked up sharply.

An older man stood quietly in the doorway. He had the same dark, intense eyes as Kael, silver streaks running through his hair, and a face lined with years of worry and hard work. His eyes were shining with thick, heavy tears as he looked at me, holding his breath as if he were afraid I might vanish.

He swallowed hard, his voice shaking softly as he asked the question that made my heart stop entirely.

"May I come in, little one," he asked softly, "or do I still have to ask permission to see my own daughter?”