Chapter 11

Livia woke up slowly.

Reflexively, she turned to her right.

Empty.

Rossa was no longer there.

Her heart immediately started beating faster.

She sat up, but her body instantly tensed. A stinging pain spread through her wounds every time she moved. Her breath hitched for a moment, but she did not stop.

“Mother…”

The voice was almost inaudible.

Livia got off the bed, her steps unsteady yet hurried. She went into the bathroom and quickly splashed water on her face—the cold water was not even enough to wash away the panic creeping into her chest.

Without properly drying her face, she immediately ran out.

The corridor was still quiet.

But her hurried footsteps broke the silence.

“Aunt, have you seen my mother?”

She stopped a servant who happened to pass by her.

The woman looked slightly surprised, then answered briefly, “Your mother is in the flower garden.”

Without waiting any longer, Livia immediately ran.

The morning air was still cold when she arrived at the garden on the right side of the large house. Dew still clung to the neatly arranged flower petals—beautiful, expensive, and perfect.

And in the middle of it all…

Rossa stood there.

The woman wore simple gardener’s clothes. Her hands moved slowly, full of care, tending to each flower as if they were more valuable than herself.

That was indeed the case.

Rossa was not allowed to make even the smallest mistake.

One damaged petal.

One tilted pot.

Just one small mistake—

Melly would not hesitate to punish her.

Merciless beatings.

Days without food.

Two days with only a piece of hard bread that was barely fit to be called food.

And the darkness of the underground room.

Cold.

Silent.

Suffocating.

Those rules… only applied to Rossa.

“Mother!”

Livia’s voice broke.

Without thinking, she ran closer. But when she was only a few steps away, she slowed down—as if afraid her touch would hurt the woman.

Very carefully, she hugged Rossa from behind.

Gently.

Almost like touching something fragile.

“Mother, you’re already awake?”

Rossa paused for a moment, then gave a faint smile.

She nodded.

As if nothing had happened.

As if her body was not covered in wounds.

As if last night had only been a passing nightmare.

“Yes, I have to work,” she replied with a smile.

The woman kept working.

As usual.

As she should.

Rossa had a very beautiful face—beauty that was not striking, yet impossible to ignore.

Her blonde hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders.

Her red eyes held deep exhaustion.

Her lips were small and pale.

Her eyelashes were long, framing a calm yet empty gaze.

Even without any makeup, she still looked beautiful.

Beautiful… in a painful way.

“Let me do it.”

Livia took the small scissors from Rossa’s hand.

There was determination in her voice.

She did not want to leave her mother. Not now. Not before she truly left this place.

But Rossa immediately held her hand back.

“No.”

The answer came quickly.

Firm, though her voice remained soft.

“I can do it.”

“But, Mother—”

“You need to rest.”

“No.”

Livia’s answer this time was just as firm.

Their gazes met.

For a moment, neither of them was willing to give in.

A small argument followed—quiet, without raised voices, yet filled with the same stubbornness.

A mother who wanted to protect.

A daughter who refused to leave.

“Alright, let’s do it together. If we do it like this, the work will be finished faster,” Livia said as she took another pair of scissors.

Livia stayed.

Rossa kept working.

And they cleaned the garden side by side.

Time passed slowly.

Occasionally, Livia began to talk.

At first, only small things.

Trivial things.

But gradually… her voice became more alive.

“Mother, do you know…” Livia smiled faintly as she trimmed the yellowing leaves. “Out there, the mornings are very busy. Even before the sun fully rises.”

Rossa glanced at her.

“Busy?”

“Yes.” Livia nodded. “There are food vendors by the roadside. The steam is still hot… it smells so good. People stand while eating, some laughing, some in a hurry because they’re going to work.”

Rossa fell silent.

Her hands kept moving, but her thoughts seemed to follow every word her daughter spoke.

“And the streets?” Rossa asked softly.

“Crowded,” Livia answered quickly. “Cars, motorcycles… horns everywhere. Sometimes it’s dizzying.” She laughed softly. “But strangely… I like it.”

Rossa smiled faintly.

“You like that kind of crowd?”

“Yes… because it feels alive, Mother.”

The sentence was simple.

But it was enough to make Rossa’s heart feel warm… and at the same time, ache.

“At campus…” Livia continued, her eyes now slightly sparkling. “In the morning, I usually sit in the garden. There are many students there. Some read books, some just talk, some pretend to be busy when they’re actually just watching people pass by.”

Rossa chuckled softly.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” Livia laughed as well. “Sometimes I do that too.”

She paused for a moment, then glanced at Rossa.

“Mother… I have some friends.”

Rossa looked at her, this time more focused.

“What are they like?”

“Noisy,” Livia answered without hesitation. “But kind.”

Rossa smiled.

“There’s one female friend… she always brings food from home. She says her mother cooks too much.” Livia laughed softly. “But actually, she just wants to share.”

“That’s very kind.”

“Yes.” Livia nodded. “And whenever I don’t have time to eat… she always forces me to eat with her.”