Uncover Mia's Mask.

seraphyna pov: I stared at the phone for several seconds after the call ended, then checked the number, hoping I might recognize it from Elara's contacts. It wasn't saved under a name, and the brief conversation had given me little to work with.

“We've met before.”

The words bothered me more than they should have. Elara's memories held faces, conversations, and fragments of her daily life, but none came to mind when I tried to place the voice. I couldn't tell whether the man had mistaken me for someone else or whether he genuinely knew Elara.

I saved the number and set the phone aside. If he called again, I would ask him to explain himself properly.

Later that morning, the doctor examined my injuries and told me I could leave the hospital once the discharge arrangements were completed. My shoulder would need time to heal, and I was advised to avoid strenuous activity for a while. I listened, asked a few questions, and signed the papers the nurse brought me.

Julian arrived before noon to take me home. He carried my belongings and waited while I changed into the clothes the hospital had returned to me. The trousers were slightly uncomfortable against the bruising on my hip, but I managed without help.

“Are you sure you're ready to leave?” he asked as we walked towards the exit.

“I'd rather recover somewhere that doesn't smell of disinfectant.”

He laughed softly. “Fair enough. Mother has been asking every hour when you'll be discharged.”

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I followed him to the car.

The drive gave me my first proper view of the city. Tall buildings rose beside busy roads, shops stood shoulder to shoulder, and vehicles moved through traffic with a confidence that would have unsettled any horseman from Elyndor. I watched the unfamiliar world pass through the window, trying to match it to the scattered images in Elara's memories.

When we arrived at the family home, I understood why the hospital staff had spoken of them as wealthy. The house stood behind tall gates, with a broad driveway and carefully maintained gardens. Two staff members greeted Julian as he helped me out of the car.

My biological parents were waiting in the entrance hall. The woman stepped forward immediately, then stopped herself before reaching for me.

“Welcome home, Elara.”

I offered a small nod. “Thank you.”

She seemed to accept the distance in my response, though it clearly wasn't what she had hoped for. A staff member showed me upstairs to a bedroom that had been prepared for my arrival. Fresh clothes had been arranged in the wardrobe, and a vase of flowers stood on the dresser.

I recognized none of it.

After the staff member left, I moved around the room slowly. There were framed photographs on a shelf, most of them showing the family together. In one, Mia stood between my two brothers, smiling at the camera while my biological parents stood behind them. They looked like a family that had shared years of ordinary moments, holidays, and celebrations.

I returned the photograph to its place.

A soft knock came at the door, and Mia entered after I answered. She carried a tray with tea and a small plate of biscuits.

“I thought you might want something,” she said, setting it down. “The doctor said you should rest, but I imagine you're tired of lying in bed all day.”

“Thank you. You didn't have to bring this yourself.”

“It's no trouble.”

She sat in the chair near the window and glanced around the room. “If you need anything, just tell me. I've been here long enough to know how everything works.”

“I may take you up on that.”

She smiled, then asked how much I remembered about the accident. I told her what I could: the rain, the headlights, and the feeling that something had happened too quickly for me to react.

“That's frightening,” she said. “I'm glad you're alive.”

Her concern sounded genuine, but I couldn't tell how she felt about my return. Perhaps she was as uncertain about me as I was about the family.

“Mum and Dad have been waiting for this for years,” she added. “They never really stopped looking.”

“I know. Julian told me.”

Mia nodded and reached for her cup. “Things will probably feel strange for a while. Everyone will want to help, and they might forget that you need space.”

It was a reasonable thing to say. Still, I wondered why she had brought it up so quickly.

“I'll tell them if I need space,” I replied.

“Of course.” She set down her cup. “I only mean that you don't have to figure everything out at once.”

For a little while, we talked about the house and the people who worked there. She explained where I could find things and told me which room belonged to each of my brothers. Nothing in the conversation gave me a reason to distrust her, and I wasn't interested in inventing one.

When she left, I drank the tea while it was still warm, then opened the wardrobe to see what had been prepared for me. The clothes were new, the labels still attached to some of them. Someone had tried to anticipate what I might need, though they had no way of knowing my preferences.

I chose a simple outfit and changed before returning to the photographs on the shelf.

One of them showed my biological parents standing beside three young boys. I recognized Julian and his brothers, but the photograph had been taken years earlier. I wondered what it would have been like to grow up here, to know these people as family rather than strangers who had suddenly appeared at my bedside.

I put the photograph away and retrieved my phone.

The unknown number from the previous night remained in my recent calls. I considered calling it back, but decided against it. The man had chosen to contact me without identifying himself. If he genuinely knew Elara, he could explain that the next time he called.

Instead, I returned to the messages I had been reading in the hospital. Mia's warning still troubled me, but it wasn't enough to tell me what Elara had been investigating. I searched for other conversations around the same date, hoping to find something that might explain the exchange.

Before I could get far, my phone rang.

The same unknown number appeared on the screen.

I answered. “You called me last night.”

“I did.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me who you are.”

“My name is Aldric Kane.”

The name stirred a faint recognition in Elara's memories. I remembered seeing it in a message about a formal gathering, though I couldn't recall whether she had met him often or only briefly.

“What do you want, Mr Kane?”

“To speak with you. I would have visited, but I didn't want to disturb you while you were recovering.”

“You said we'd met before.”

“We have.”

“Then you should know I don't remember you.”

“I heard about your memory loss.” His voice remained calm. “I won't keep you long. I only wanted to make sure you were all right.”

I looked towards the window. The afternoon sun had begun to fade behind the buildings, leaving the room in a soft, uneven light.

“I'm recovering,” I said. “If there's something you need to tell me, you can do it now.”

There was a brief pause.

“Not over the phone,” he replied. “When you're feeling better, perhaps we can speak in person.”

I didn't like the way he had avoided my question, but I had no reason to insist. We arranged for him to visit the following afternoon, and the call ended.

I placed the phone on the dresser and returned to the window. Aldric Kane's name had brought back only a fragment of Elara's life, not enough to tell me what kind of man he was or why he wanted to see me.

For now, I would meet him and listen.

Perhaps then I would understand why a man who claimed to know Elara had waited until she woke to make himself known.