7

Elara’s Pov

Before I could even catch my breath from what Kael had told me, the heavy wooden door clicked open, and two more men stepped inside.

The moment they walked through that door, I could tell they were brothers. They had the same sharp, tall build and the same intense look in their eyes as Kael, but each one carried a completely different energy.

The man who stepped forward first was slightly younger-looking than Kael, with neat hair and a relaxed, charming smile painted across his face. But even with that smile, his eyes were sharp and wide, scanning every single detail of my face as if he were trying to memorize me.

"Elara," he said softly, his voice smooth and warm. He took a slow step toward my bed, holding his hands up slightly, palms out, like he was approaching a frightened animal. "I'm Ronan. Your second brother."

Before I could say anything, another man squeezed past him into the room. This one looked a bit younger, maybe around thirty, wearing a doctor's white coat over his clothes. His face was pale, and his dark eyes were shining with a desperate, heavy emotion that he was trying very hard to hide behind a trembling mouth. This was Silas. The doctor. The youngest brother.

Silas didn't say hello. He stopped dead in his tracks right beside my bed, his gaze dropping straight down to the silver bird pendant resting against my hospital gown. I watched as his chest rose and fell in a sharp, ragged breath, his hands curling tightly at his sides.

"It's real," Silas whispered, his voice cracking like dry wood. He reached out a trembling hand toward me, stopping just an inch away as if he were afraid I might vanish into thin air like smoke. "The pendant... the way her eyes curve at the corners... Kael wasn't lying. It's her. After all these years, she's really right here."

"Silas, give her some room," Ronan said gently, though his own voice sounded thick and strained. Ronan stepped closer, looking down at me with eyes full of a painful, aching sorrow. "I know this is too much, Elara. I'm the brother who usually handles the family's business affairs and negotiations. I spend my whole life making deals and trying to predict the future. But I'll tell you the truth—I've spent most of my adult life wishing I could negotiate with fate itself, begging it to just give us our missing sister back."

Their words washed over me. All three of them were standing around my bed now, staring at me not like strangers, but like starving men looking at a feast. They started firing questions at me, their voices overlapping in their eagerness.

"What do you remember from when you were little?" Silas asked, leaning forward, his eyes wide. "Did the people who raised you ever talk about where they found you?"

"What orphanage was it?" Kael added, his voice protective and firm. "Did anyone ever come to visit you? Did anyone ever hurt you?"

"Wait—stop! Please, just stop!" I cried out, holding my hands up to my ears as a wave of dizziness spun the room around me. My chest felt tight, and my breathing turned into shallow, ragged gasps.

It was all too much. For eight years in the Rooke mansion, nobody had cared if I spoke, if I ate, or if I breathed. I was invisible. But now, suddenly, three powerful, intimidating men were staring at me, dissecting every word, examining my face, asking me to give up a lifetime of memories I never had.

"I don't remember!" I shouted, hot tears finally spilling over my eyelashes and burning my cheeks. "I don't remember my biological parents! I have zero memories of any Veyne estate! I grew up in a cold, lonely orphanage where nobody wanted me, and I had to learn how to survive all on my own! You can't just walk in here, wave a photograph and a necklace in my face, and expect me to call you my brothers!"

The room went dead silent. The only sound was the frantic, shaky rhythm of my own breathing.

For a second, I thought they would get angry. I thought they would roll their eyes and call me ungrateful, just like Octavia used to do whenever I cried.

Instead, Kael immediately stepped forward, his face hardening as he turned a sharp glare toward his younger brothers. "Back off," Kael snapped, his voice a low, dangerous warning. "Look at her. She just survived a terrible car crash. She's scared, she's exhausted, and she doesn't owe us anything right now. Give her space."

Ronan’s charming smile melted away, replaced by an expression of deep, genuine regret. He took a quick step back, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, Elara," Ronan said softly, his voice full of pain. "You're right. We rushed you. We waited twenty-four years, so we were just... we were too excited. We didn't mean to overwhelm you. Do you need anything? Should I call a nurse? Is there anything from the gift shop you want?"

I blinked, staring at him in utter confusion. Was he apologizing? To me? In the Rooke household, apologizing was a sign of weakness, and nobody ever cared if I felt overwhelmed.

Silas stepped in closer, his doctor instincts taking over as he noticed my trembling hands. He didn't push or crowd me anymore. Instead, he spoke in a calm, soothing voice. "I'm a doctor, Elara. If you want, I can arrange for a top specialist to monitor your injuries. But I promise you, nobody is going to force you to do anything. You don't owe us your trust, and you don't owe us a family."

Their kindness felt heavy and strange, like wearing a coat that didn't fit quite right. I didn't know what to do with people who actually cared about my feelings instead of brushing them aside.

Ronan let out a soft sigh, looking down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at me. "You know... our father has been sitting beside the telephone in the main estate ever since Kael called him," Ronan murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "He hasn't moved an inch. He's just waiting... waiting for news about the little girl he never stopped searching for, the daughter he thought was gone forever."

An unfamiliar, sharp ache stabbed right through the middle of my chest. A father who waited by the phone? A father who never stopped searching? For my entire life, I had believed I was unwanted, abandoned on a doorstep because nobody loved me. The thought that a man had spent decades crying out for his lost child made my throat tighten until it hurt.

I wanted to believe it. God, I wanted to believe it so badly. But I was so terrified that it was all a cruel dream, that the moment I let my guard down, the truth would shatter and leave me with nothing again.

Silas stepped forward gently, breaking the heavy silence. "Look, Elara, I know this is a lot to process. But to make things clear, I want to arrange a proper DNA test. We can compare your blood with our parents' records. That way, you'll have absolute proof. Something more certain than a pendant and a faded photograph."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me. I needed certainty. I couldn't live in this terrifying middle ground anymore.

"Okay," I whispered, the word barely escaping my lips. "Do the test. Let's find out."

A collective, quiet breath seemed to leave all three brothers at once. A tiny hint of relief touched their exhausted faces.

"Thank you, Elara," Kael muttered quietly, giving me a respectful nod. "We'll let you rest now. Silas will set up the test, and we'll be right outside the door if you need anything at all."

The three of them turned around and began walking toward the door, speaking in low, murmuring tones as they prepared to leave me in peace. My shoulders finally dropped, and I let out a long, shaky sigh, pulling the white blanket up around my chin.

Just as Ronan's hand reached out to turn the brass doorknob, his phone suddenly buzzed loudly in his suit pocket.

Ronan froze. He pulled out the phone, looked down at the glowing screen, and his entire face completely drained of color. His eyes went wide with shock, and he slowly turned his head around to look straight at me.

The air in the room instantly turned ice-cold. Ronan swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he held the phone, and his voice came out in a breathless, panicked whisper.

"She's already outside your room," Ronan told me, terror and desperation flashing in his eyes, "and she says she cannot go home without seeing you.”