Chapter 2 (Fl POV)

My eyes flew open with a sharp gasp.

My chest rose and fell in uneven, shallow breaths as I struggled to remember where I was.

The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—painted in a soft beige, with faint cracks running along the corners. The scent of old wood and herbs lingered in the air. I wasn’t in that dark room anymore.

No blood.

No Lucas.

But where was I?

I tried to sit up, but my muscles ached, heavy with exhaustion and something else—tranquilizers, maybe? My head throbbed. My throat was dry.

Just then, I heard footsteps. Two figures approached quietly from the doorway—an elderly man and woman. Both of them dressed in simple, homely clothes, their faces worn with age, yet gentle and welcoming.

The woman had silver hair neatly tied back into a bun, her eyes warm like fading candlelight. The man had a long, snow-white beard, and kind wrinkles etched deep into his face.

They walked toward me slowly, careful not to startle me. The woman offered a soft, motherly smile.

“You’re awake, dear,”

She said kindly, her voice warm and soothing, like a lullaby. The man gave a small nod.

“We were beginning to worry. You’ve been asleep for almost three days.”

Three days?

Panic rose again in my chest. My fingers gripped the edge of the blanket covering me.

“Where… where am I?”

I asked, my voice cracking.

The woman gently took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed a cool hand on my forehead.

“Safe,” she whispered. “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you here.”

Safe.

That word sounded foreign now.

I blinked at them, trying to believe it, to feel comforted. But my mind refused to rest. I remembered Lucas’s words—his voice still echoing in my head. You left me to burn.

“Who are you?” I asked slowly, eyeing them both with suspicion.

The old man folded his hands behind his back and exchanged a brief glance with the woman before answering.

“My name is Elias. This is my wife, Mira. We found you... we found you near sea shore..."

I swallowed hard.

He said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for answers in my face.

"You were unconscious, soaking wet... and, dear—" Mira’s voice softened, filled with concern,

"—you were covered in blood."

My breath hitched.

The sea... blood... Lucas...

It all felt like a dream unraveling slowly—too fast for me to understand, too slow to make sense. My fingers clenched the sheet beneath me.

"Do you remember anything?" Elias asked gently, watching me closely.

I opened my mouth, then shut it. My mind was a blur—fragmented pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know how to put together.

Lucas’s voice echoed again:

“You left me to burn.”

“I’m just returning the favor.”

"I... I don’t know who I am," I whispered, shame washing over me like a wave.

The words felt like ash in my mouth.

"I don’t remember anything. Not even my name."

Mira’s eyes softened with a mother’s sadness. She reached out, gently squeezing my hand.

"That’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t need to remember it all now."

"What matters is—you’re alive. You’re safe."

Safe.

That word again.

Then Elias stepped forward, placing something on the small table beside the bed—a worn leather pouch.

"This was with you when we found you," he said.

I looked at it cautiously. My heart started to race.

He opened it carefully, pulling out a few strange things— A rusted silver pendant.

A torn photograph, faded and water-damaged.

A small knife with dried blood on its edge.

And... a name.

Scrawled in hurried ink on the back of the photo.

"Aria."

My fingers trembled as I reached for it.

Aria... was that me?

I know it's not my name...

The name felt familiar... like something whispered in a dream.

..._______________________...

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