Chapter 23: A Forgotten Memory

Chapter 23: A Forgotten Memory Seraphina’s POV After Lucien left the room, I went straight to the washroom to wash my face and my hands, which were caked in dried blood that wasn’t even mine, or maybe some of it was. I couldn’t tell anymore. I wanted a shower. Hell, I needed one desperately. But I had no fresh clothes to change into. So I settled for the sink. I turned the tap, let the water run cold, and splashed it over my face. I rubbed my face, my hands hard, scrubbing like I could erase everything that had happened. Like maybe, if I rubbed hard enough, everything would come off. The filth that I had been through and things I had been through all my life. The water turned pink in the basin. My reflection in the mirror looked hollow—smudged mascara, split lips, and scratches all over the face and hands. My eyes looked so lonely that I didn’t know what to do to make them lively. I kept scrubbing. I didn’t stop until my skin burned. It took me a couple of minutes to get myself looking human again. Not that normal, but just presentable. I turned off the tap and went to the room. I hadn’t wiped my face and hands as it still had a burning sensation, and the cold water was giving me a soothing sensation. I slipped under the covers with my body aching, a hollow mind. I had barely settled into bed when I heard it. Tip-tap Tip-tap It was the faint background sound, but it was creeping in my ears, making me jolt with every sound. I tried to ignore those sounds, but the more they entered my ears, the more they triggered a forgotten memory. The fragment of memories started to run through my mind. It seemed I was in a hospital room. It was old with the walls stained, and the air was too thick. I was lying on a bed, curled up, rubbing my belly in slow and protective circles. Tears slid down my cheeks in silence. I wasn’t even sobbing anymore, just trying to control my pain. And in that silence, I couldn’t ignore that sound. The sound of water dripping over and over. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. It drove into my skull like nails. I remember shaking my body and losing control over my body. I then screamed. It was loud and raw like an animal. As if I had gone mad. I opened my eyes with a jolt. I couldn’t stay in that room anymore. I ran out, not knowing where to go. My chest hurt, and my stomach felt sick from the memories. It was like I could still feel everything. I covered my ears with both hands as I kept running, trying to shut everything out. Then I saw Lucien. He was down the hall, leaning against a pillar, talking to someone on the call. "Why are you here?" I asked before I could stop myself. Lucien raised his brows, sliding his phone into his pocket. "I could ask you the same. Why are you here?" "I..." The words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t say it. I didn’t even know what was wrong with me—how could I explain something I didn’t understand? He looked at me for a second, then said quietly, "Why didn’t you wipe your face?" I stayed silent, still searching for the right words. "You’ll catch a cold," he added. "And you still haven’t showered, have you?" "I didn’t feel like it," I said quietly, my voice barely steady as it was cracking. Lucien didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching me with those calm eyes of his, as if he could see right through me. Like he already knew what I was going through me even telling him. "I just needed some air," I added, folding my arms tightly around myself. "The room felt so small." He gave a small nod, like he wasn’t surprised. "Come," he said gently. "You should sit down." I didn’t move. My legs felt heavy, and I was breathless from all that thing earlier. "I’m fine," I said. Even though it was evident that I was clearly lying. Lucien took a small step closer, not touching me, just close enough that I could feel his breath landing onto my face. His presence was quiet but solid, making me feel that something in this was still real and belonged to me. "You’re not fine," he said, voice low and steady. "And you don’t have to pretend with me." That hit something deep inside me. Not because he was being kind, but because he was right. I looked away quickly, blinking back the sting in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry again like this in front of him. "Young Master, the food is ready..." We were still standing close when a voice cut through the moment. It was the same woman I’d seen before—the nanny or maybe a head maid. I wasn’t sure what her role was, and honestly, I didn’t care. Lucien glanced at me. "See?" he said, his voice calm but with a strange softness to it. "You need something in your system before you start hopping around like a rabbit in this house." His words were teasing, but they didn’t sound cold like before. "Let’s go," he added, then reached for my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine—not tight, not rough. Just enough to guide me. And without saying anything else, he started walking, gently pulling me with him toward the dining room. "Can I make a call, please?" I asked, my voice low and unsure. Lucien looked at me, then glanced toward the large clock hanging on the wall. "Who are you calling at this hour?" he asked. "It’s already past midnight." "Oh." He was right—it was already late. But still... knowing Emma, she was probably awake, sitting near her phone, waiting. She always waited. "Fine, don’t make faces like that, I will let you call when you are done."