“Good morning, Anna,” she greeted me, her voice as gentle as I remembered.
“Good morning, Grandmother,” I replied, a smile spreading across my face as I approached her. It still felt strange, yet comforting, to call her that. To be someone’s granddaughter after all this time.
She stepped forward and took my hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “It’s been far too long, my dear. I’ve missed you.”
“And I’ve missed you too,” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper. There was so much I wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in my throat, tangled with all the emotions I hadn’t let myself feel for years.
“Shall we sit?” she suggested, her voice calm but carrying a note of concern. She led me to the small seating area by the window, where we both settled into the plush chairs. For a moment, we just sat there, the silence between us filled with unspoken understanding.
“I’ve been so anxious to see you, Anna,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “To hear about everything you’ve been through. We were all so worried when you disappeared, … living with the Idris family, I couldn’t believe it. How did you manage all those years?”
I hesitated, the memories of my time with the Idris family rushing back like a flood. “It was… difficult,” I began, trying to choose my words carefully. “When Mr. Idris found me, I was so lost. Not just physically, but inside. I didn’t know who I was anymore, or where I belonged. He took me in and gave me a place to stay, and for that, I’m grateful. But life there… it wasn’t easy.”
My grandmother’s brow furrowed with concern. “What do you mean, Anna? Were they not kind to you?”
“Mr. Idris was kind,” I acknowledged, my voice soft. “But Samuel… he wasn’t. He never wanted me there, and he made sure I knew it. He saw me as an intruder, a burden that his father had taken on. He resented me, and he didn’t hide it.”
I looked down at my hands, now tightly clasped together in my lap, trying to find the strength to continue. “It was more than just coldness, Grandmother. Samuel went out of his way to make me feel unwelcome, to remind me every day that I didn’t belong. He would do things… cruel things. He destroyed things that were important to me and said things that cut deep. And I… I felt so alone.”
Mrs. Edgewood reached out and gently placed her hand over mine, the touch grounding me. “Oh, Anna,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. “I had no idea… You should have been here with us, with your family. We would have protected you.”
I swallowed hard, the emotions I had kept buried for so long threatening to spill over. “I didn’t have a choice,” I finally said, my voice trembling. “When Mr. Idris asked me to marry Samuel, I thought it was what I had to do. He told me it was for my good, to secure my place in the family, so I wouldn’t be left alone again. And I… I wanted to repay him for everything he had done for me.”
My grandmother’s grip on my hand tightened slightly. “So you married him… out of obligation?”
I nodded, tears now brimming in my eyes. “Yes. It was a marriage in name only, a contract of gratitude, not love. The ceremony was cold and empty. Samuel… he looked at me with such disdain, as if I were nothing more than a nuisance. I thought… I thought I could make it work, that maybe with time, things would get better. But they didn’t. They only got worse.”
Mrs. Edgewood sighed deeply, her expression one of profound sadness. “And Mr. Idris… he truly believed this was the best for you?”
“I think he did,” I replied, my voice barely audible. “He thought he was securing my future, giving me a place to belong. But it felt like… like I was being traded as if my worth was tied to this marriage. I felt trapped, like a bird in a cage, with no way out.”
Tears began to slip down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away, embarrassed to be so emotional in front of her. But my grandmother leaned closer, her eyes full of understanding.
“Anna, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” she said softly. “You were doing what you thought was right, what you thought you had to do. But no one should have to live like that, especially not you.”
She pulled me into a gentle embrace, holding me close as I allowed myself to cry. It was a comfort I hadn’t felt in so long—a feeling of safety, of being cared for.
“You’re home now,” she whispered, her voice full of conviction. “And you’ll never have to go through that again. We’re your family, and we’ll make sure you’re protected, that you’re happy.”
I nodded against her shoulder, the weight of her words settling over me. For so long, I had felt alone, trapped in a life that wasn’t mine. But now, here with my grandmother, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could start over. That I could find a way to live a life that I chose, not one that was chosen for me.
We pulled apart, and she looked at me with a seriousness that made me realize she had more to say.
“Anna, you’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice steady and full of warmth. “You’ve survived so much, and now it’s time for you to find your path, to live a life that you choose. Not one dictated by others, but one that brings you joy.”
I took a deep breath, her words resonating deep within me. “I want that,” I whispered, the realization hitting me with full force. “I want to find my path.”
“And you will,” she assured me with a smile. “We’ll make sure of it together. You’re an Edgewood, Anna. You have the strength of this family behind you.”
The morning light continued to fill the room, casting everything in a soft, hopeful glow. For the first time in years, I felt a sense of possibility, a sense that maybe I could reclaim my life, my identity. With my grandmother by my side, I knew I could face whatever the future held with courage and hope.
As we sat there, the sounds of life outside growing louder, I felt something shift within me. The fear, the loneliness, the sense of being trapped—it all began to fade, replaced by something new. Determination. Resilience. And, most importantly, hope.
I wasn’t just Anna, the girl who had been lost and found. I was Anna Edgewood, and it was time to reclaim my life.
I still remember that day as if it happened just yesterday, every detail seared into my memory. The sky was overcast, and a cold wind had begun to pick up as I walked back from the market, clutching the basket of groceries tightly in my arms. The streets were quiet, the usual chatter of the townspeople subdued by the impending storm. I hurried my steps, eager to get back home before the rain began.The word felt hollow, almost mocking. The Idris house was never a home to me, not really. It was a place where I existed, not lived. And now, as Samuel’s wife, it had become a prison for my body.When I reached the house, it was eerily silent. Mr. Idris and his wife had left earlier that morning for a visit to a nearby town, leaving Samuel and I alone. I had thought that maybe, just maybe, with them gone, the day would pass peacefully. But I should have known better.The moment I stepped through the door, I felt it—a tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Samuel was waiting for me, stan
Mr. Idris was on the ground, clutching his leg, his face pale with fear and pain. A snake, venomous and deadly, had struck him while he worked, and the poison was already taking hold.Mrs. Idris was beside herself with grief, her hands trembling as she tried to comfort her husband. But I could see the fear in her eyes, the knowledge that there was little we could do. We managed to get him back to the house, but by then, the venom was already spreading, and his condition worsened quickly.It became my duty to care for him in those final days. Mrs. Idris couldn’t bear to see her husband suffer like that; the man she had loved for so long was slipping away before her eyes. I took on the responsibility because there was no one else, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him suffering alone.Anna: [Gently taking Mr. Idris's hand as she sits by his bedside, her voice trembling slightly] "Mr. Idris, please, don’t speak too much. You need to rest."Mr. Idris: [His breath is labored, but his eye
It wasn’t until later that I learned the truth.One afternoon, after a long day of work, I walked into town to pick up some supplies. As I passed by a small café, I saw Samuel sitting at a table outside, his back to me. He wasn’t alone. A woman sat across from him, her hand resting on his, her face soft with affection. I recognized her—Lana Stock, a woman from a neighboring town, someone I had seen Samuel talking to before, though I never knew how close they were.I hesitated, not wanting to intrude, but something in their conversation caught my attention.“I can’t do this anymore, Samuel,” Lana was saying, her voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t keep waiting for you to leave her. It’s tearing me apart.”Samuel’s face was tight with frustration, his hand gripping hers as if he were trying to hold on to something slipping away. “You know it’s not that simple, Lana,” he replied, his voice low and strained. “I’m stuck in this marriage because of my father. It was his dying wish, and I
The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. As I sat by the window, lost in my thoughts, the door creaked open, and in walked my grandmother, Mrs. Edgewood. Her presence filled the room with a sense of calm and reassurance that I had longed for. She looked at me with eyes that radiated both concern and love, eyes that had seen so much yet still held a softness for me.“Come, let’s have breakfast,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “There is a lot you need to know, and we need to start making some adjustments.”I could tell how much she wanted to be with me, how much she wanted to bridge the years we had lost. The way she looked at me, with that blend of affection and determination, made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time—safe.As we walked down the grand staircase, the marble floors beneath our feet seemed to speak of the richness and age of the Edgewood estate. Every step echoed the legacy I had unknowingly become a part of. I co
“Anna, darling, are you alright?” she asked softly, her voice trembling with emotion.I nodded weakly, trying to sit up. My head still felt heavy, but the dizziness had subsided. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “It was just... too much.”Grandmother sighed, her expression softening. “I know, dear. I know it’s overwhelming. But you don’t have to face this alone. We’re here to help you, every step of the way.”Her words were like a balm to my aching heart. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of belonging, of being cared for. This was my family, and though the path ahead was uncertain, I knew I wouldn’t have to walk it alone.As I lay there, surrounded by the warmth of my grandmother’s love, I felt a glimmse of hope. This was a new beginning, a chance to build a life that was truly my own. And with my grandmother by my side, I knew I had the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.******************************** Lara’s apartment was
The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the curtains as a gentle breeze drifted through the open window. I lay in bed, my body still weak from the fainting spell earlier that day. The weight of my responsibilities as an Edgewood was overwhelming, but more than that, the memories of the years I had lost—years spent in a world so far removed from the grandeur of this estate—hung heavily on my heart.I felt a familiar presence beside me and turned to see my grandmother, Mrs. Edgewood, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes, filled with concern and love, met mine. She had aged gracefully, her silver hair framing a face that had seen so much over the years. Yet, there was a softness in her expression, a warmth that I hadn’t felt in a long time."My dear Anna," she began, her voice soothing, "I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through all of this alone. I wish I had found you sooner. I wish I had known where you were, what you were enduring. But now that you’re home, I want to und
“Who is that?” Grandma askedThe door creaked open. We turned to see one of the maids, her face pale and her eyes wide with worry, standing hesitantly at the threshold.“Miss Anna,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she clutched her apron. “Mrs. Edgewood, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s... there’s someone at the gate.”My heart skipped a beat, the fragile calm I had been nurturing suddenly shattered by the tension in the maid’s voice. Mrs. Edgewood, who had been holding my hand, looked up with a frown. “Who is it, dear?”The maid swallowed hard, her gaze shifting nervously between us. “It’s... its Mr. Samuel Idris, ma’am. He’s arrived with some load and is asking to see his wife and meet with you.”The mention of Samuel’s name was like a physical blow, the air rushing from my lungs as fear wrapped its icy fingers around my heart. I hadn’t seen him since my return to the Edgewood estate, and the thought of facing him now, here in this place that was supposed to be my sanct
The memory of that day still lingers in my mind, a haunting echo of what could have been and what was lost. The smell of polished wood and the rhythm of feet moving in unison against the dance studio floor were once comforting to me, but now they only remind me of a friendship that slipped through my fingers like sand.It was my first episode at the dance school, a place that had once felt like a sanctuary, where I could lose myself in the music and forget, if only for a moment, the pain of my life with Mr. Idris. Dancing had always been my escape, the one thing that allowed me to feel free, even if just for a few fleeting moments. But that day, everything changed.Austin Miller had recently joined our dance group, and it didn’t take long for him to catch the attention of everyone, including me. He was tall, with a natural grace that made every movement seem effortless, and a smile that could light up the darkest room. I noticed how the other girls would steal glances at him, giggling
“Welcome back, Miss Anna,” Lydia said, taking the bags from my hands before I could protest. She was always like that—quietly efficient, never allowing me to do too much myself.“Thanks, Lydia. It’s good to be home,” I replied, though my voice felt hollow. Home. This house used to feel like that, but now... now it just felt like an empty shell, haunted by my grandmother’s absence.“I picked up some groceries on the way,” I added as she took my things.“I’ll take care of them,” she said, her hands already full but still moving with that same quiet grace.I was about to head toward my chambers when I heard it—a sound that shouldn’t have been there. A rustling, followed by the faint thud of something heavy being moved. My brows furrowed. It was coming from my grandmother’s chambers.Her room. The room that was supposed to be mine now, but I couldn’t bring myself to move into it. It had been two months since she passed, and I still refused to rearrange the mansion or even touch her belong
I sat quietly beside my mother, watching her frail hands resting on the blanket. There was something unsettling about seeing her so vulnerable. A woman who, once upon a time, was full of life, now appeared fragile and worn. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt rush over me. I should have been here more often. But, then again, when had I ever been good at staying?I was deep in thought when the door opened, and someone stepped inside. I turned my head and froze for a second, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. It was the nurse- that nurse- the one I had been flirting with outside the nurse’s station earlier today.Her name was Jennifer. I’d seen her outside my mother’s room and we’d exchanged flirtatious glances, harmless small talk, and a few compliments. But seeing her now, walking into my mother’s room, caught me off guard.“Well, well, Jennifer,” I said, my voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect to see you here.”She smiled politely, though her eyes held a flicker of
I stood outside the door for an eternity, my hand shaking before the handle. The last time I visited my mother was brief, awkward, and honestly, unremarkable. It had been Anna who insisted on keeping my mother here, in this place, tho safe, comfortable, well taken care of. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Anna had taken care of so much. More than I deserved, to be honest.Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open gently. The room was beautiful, and tastefully decorated, with nice flowers and warm light spilling from the large window that had the view of the garden. A slight breeze moved the curtains, letting in the faint scent of jasmine. My mother lying in bed with her thin, frail body swallowed by the thick knit blanket draped over her body. She didn’t notice me at first, but when I cleared my throat, she turned, and the surprise in her eyes was… too much.Her gaze locked onto mine, wide with total disbelief, almost as if she were looking at a ghost. I felt a pang of guilt in my che
It had been a while since I’d visited Mrs. Idris, and as I walked through the quiet halls of the nursing home, a heavy sense of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. The scent of antiseptic mixed with the faint smell of lavender drifted through the air, and I found myself clenching and unclenching my fists to keep my nerves at bay.Mrs. Idris had been under my guardianship ever since her health began to decline. I’d ensured she was taken care of, well-fed, comfortable, and treated with the respect she deserved. But I hadn’t been here as much as I should have lately. With everything happening—my grandmother’s death, the business responsibilities—I had let too much time slip by. I entered her room quietly. The pale yellow curtains let in a soft, golden light that bathed the room in warmth. Mrs. Idris lay on her bed, propped with pillows, her frail frame barely making an impression under the blankets. Her eyes fluttered open as she heard the door click shut.“Mrs. Idris,” I called sof
It had been a week since that unsettling lunch with Henry, where I saw the woman staring at me through the window. The memory still played in my mind, a gnawing discomfort at the back of my thoughts. I hadn't mentioned it to Henry, trying to brush it off as a coincidence, but I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that her eyes were filled with something more than curiosity. Today, however, all of that would come to light.I was sitting in the library, going through some paperwork, when the housekeeper knocked on the door, her voice timid. “Miss Anna, there’s someone at the door asking for you. She says her name is Lara.”I froze, my pen hovering over the page. Lara. The woman from the restaurant. I cleared my throat, setting the papers aside. “Send her in.”As the housekeeper left, my heart raced, my thoughts swirling. What could she possibly want? And why now?Moments later, Lara entered the room. She looked different from that day—worn, perhaps, but with a determined expression. She
Sitting across from Henry at the small, cozy café, I couldn’t help but smile as the afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the kind of place that made you forget about the world outside. We had been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, letting time slip by unnoticed as we enjoyed each other's company.Henry looked at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes, his fingers gently playing with the rim of his coffee cup. “You know, Anna, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. The way he said it, like it was a fact he couldn’t help but notice, made my cheeks flush.I let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the compliment, but he wasn’t having it.“No, really,” he continued, leaning in slightly. “You have this light about you. The kind that draws people in. I’ve felt it since the moment I first saw you.”I glanced down at my plate, suddenly feeling shy. "Henry, stop, you’re making me blush.”B
I was awoken by the soft clinking of china against the tray beside me. At first, the sound felt distant, like it was part of a dream, but as my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by the golden rays of the morning sun streaming in through the curtains. The warmth of the light made everything feel soft like the world was wrapped in a comforting glow. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, and then I saw him.Henry was standing by the bed, a small, proud smile playing on his lips as he arranged the tray on the bedside table. His eyes caught mine, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He had asked the maid to prepare breakfast for us, the thoughtful gesture warming me from the inside. The smell of fresh tea and warm croissants filled the room, making the moment feel even more surreal and peaceful.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Henry whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. His lips lingered for a second longer as if he was savoring the simplicity of the mome
I sat at the edge of the bed, dressed in the black gown I hadn’t taken off in days. It had been two months since Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, the woman who had been like a mother to me, passed away. And I hadn’t left my room since the funeral. The outside world felt distant, like a memory that no longer belonged to me. My world had shrunk to the size of this room, this bed. I couldn’t shake the hollow emptiness that settled in my chest like a permanent weight. Grief had consumed me, and with each passing day, it grew harder to remember what it was like to feel anything else.The door creaked open, and I glanced up just in time to see Henry stepping inside. His face softened the moment he saw me, concern etched into every line of his expression. He walked slowly toward me, as though afraid that too much movement might cause me to break."Hey," he said softly, sitting down on the bed next to me. His presence was calming and familiar, and for a moment, I felt a small spark of warmth.“Hey,”
"Are you ready, Anna? To serve Samuel his divorce papers?" His voice was gentle as if he could sense my hesitation.I nodded slowly, unable to find the words. This was it. After years of suffering, I was finally taking back my life. The papers felt heavy in my hands, symbolic of every battle I had endured. Every tear, every sleepless night.The maid, standing by the door, glanced at Mr. Mike, awaiting his signal. "Go and call Mr. Samuel. He’s in the guest house," he instructed.I could hear the faint thump of music coming from the guest house, the sound of Samuel’s "good life." The man I had married had turned into a stranger, indulging in the company of others, in everything that had nothing to do with me. I had long since stopped wondering where I went wrong because I knew now—it was never about me.I glanced toward my grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, lying weakly in her bed. She had been my rock through all of this, her frail hands still able to hold my spirit together even as