Seraphina abruptly sat up in her bed, her heart hammering against her ribcage. Silence swallowed the room.
Her chest heaved as she stared into darkness that was thick enough to choke on. For a moment she didn't move, didn't breathe properly, just listened to the pounding of her heart like it was trying to escape her ribs.
A dream…just a dream.
But the humiliation clung to her like damp cloth. Two years had passed. Two whole years, yet the memories were still fresh with raw wounds that refused to scar over. Some nights she could almost forget… until sleep dragged her back into that ballroom where her life had ended.
She ran a shaky hand through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. Her lips wobbled as tears pooled behind her eyelids. No matter how much she tried to brush the haunting past away, the pain would always catch up. She wished it had been just a nightmare and not a memory from the past. Soon, droplets of salty tears fell from her eyes. She struggled to properly breathe, hiccuping for gasps of air.
Her room was suffocatingly dark. Thick velvet curtains sealed out the world, blocking any hint of morning or evening. She had stopped caring about time long ago. Days blurred into each other, she had long therapy sessions, empty meals, and long stretches of staring at nothing.
She wasn't the queen of socialites anymore.
She wasn't feared.
She wasn't envied.
She was alone.
Her lips trembled. "You were awful," she whispered to herself.
And she had been.
She remembered the whispered plots, the way she turned friends against each other for influence, the cold calculations she made without remorse. She had enjoyed power, enjoyed watching people bend. She had justified every cruel act because she believed she was fighting for love.
A bitter laugh escaped her throat.
Her gaze drifted toward the small table beside her bed where empty wine bottles once stood like trophies. There were fewer now… she had tried to stop but the memories remained. She drank every night until the room spun, until she couldn't feel anything except numbness. Alcohol had been her only escape when the silence became unbearable.
It had been addictive… the oblivion.
A knock sounded on the door, it was firm and familiar.
Seraphina didn't answer. She already knew who it was.
The door opened anyway.
The nanny entered quietly, her expression gentle but determined. Without a word, she placed a tablet on the bedside table and angled it toward Seraphina's face.
A loud, dramatic voice exploded through the device.
"Stand up, girl, and stop soaking in darkness!"
Seraphina groaned and flopped back against her pillows.
Lina.
Her best friend's face filled the screen with her flawless makeup, hair perfectly styled, studio lights glowing behind her. Lina looked like sunshine forced into human form, completely out of place in Seraphina's shadowed world.
"Why is the room still dark?" Lina demanded, squinting. "Open those curtains right now!"
She turned her attention off-screen. "Auntie, please open the curtains! I told you she'll try to pretend she's dead."
The nanny hesitated only a second before moving to the windows. The heavy curtains were slid open, and harsh sunlight flooded the room. Seraphina hissed and buried her face in a pillow.
"Get up, Sera," Lina said, voice loud and unapologetic. "If I wasn't thousands of miles away, I would drag you out of bed myself."
"You wouldn't," Seraphina mumbled into the pillow.
"Oh, I absolutely would. Auntie, drag her."
The nanny froze, clearly uncomfortable. Lina had hired her specifically to maintain this morning routine — daily video calls designed to bully Seraphina into functioning like a human being.
"Miss Lina…" the nanny said gently, unsure.
"Drag. Her," Lina repeated.
Seraphina groaned louder. "I don't want to stand up."
Lina rolled her eyes dramatically. Even through a screen she radiated unstoppable energy. She was a famous supermodel now constantly traveling for shoots, constantly in motion yet she had never abandoned Seraphina. Despite her parents disapproving of her modeling career, Lina did whatever she wanted anyway. Spoiled, stubborn, fiercely loyal.
And the only person who stayed.
"You've been hiding long enough," Lina said more softly. "Come back home."
Seraphina stiffened. "No."
"No one's going to hurt you," Lina continued . "You can't keep disappearing forever."
Seraphina's fingers curled into the bedsheets. She had refused to tell anyone where she was living, not even Lina knew her exact location…just the nanny's contact and the daily video calls. It was the only way she felt safe from judgment… from whispers… from the ghosts of her old life.
"I'm fine here," she muttered.
"You're not fine," Lina snapped immediately. "You're rotting in a cave and you know it."
The words stung because they were true.
The nanny gently tugged at Seraphina's arm. "Miss… please."
With a defeated sigh, Seraphina sat up. Her hair was messy, eyes swollen from crying, face pale without makeup. Lina softened at the sight.
"There you go," Lina said, smiling. "Still dramatic. Still stubborn. Still my best friend."
Seraphina tried to glare but couldn't hold it. A faint, reluctant smile tugged at her lips before fading.
"I have to go back on set," Lina said after a moment. "Promise me you'll get up properly. Shower. Eat something that isn't sadness."
"Bossy," Seraphina muttered.
"Alive," Lina corrected gently. "Call me later, okay? And think about what I said… come home."
The call ended.
Silence settled over the room again, quieter this time, less suffocating.
The nanny cleared her throat. "Miss Lina said to run you a bath."
Seraphina groaned but slid her legs off the bed. The floor felt cold under her feet. She let the nanny guide her toward the bathroom, steam already filling the space.
As she sank into the warm water, she stared at her reflection, she was hollow-eyed, unrecognizable from the woman who once ruled ballrooms.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
She ignored it at first… until it buzzed again.
Reluctantly, she reached for it and a single message lit up the screen.
Grandfather:Come home, dear.
Her breath caught.
For a long moment she just stared at the words. Memories of warmth, of protection, of quiet understanding washed over her. Unlike everyone else, he had never abandoned her, never shamed her publicly, never demanded she become someone else.
She exhaled slowly.
Maybe Lina was right. Maybe hiding had lasted long enough.
Her fingers hovered over the screen… then typed a simple reply.
Okay.
As she set the phone down, something unfamiliar stirred in her chest, not hope exactly… but movement. The first shift in stagnant water.
Outside the bathroom window, sunlight crept cautiously across the floor, touching the edges of a life that had once shattered… and might finally be ready to begin again.