Clarissa glanced up at the gray sky. “There’s an umbrella in my office. I’ll grab it.”

“No, I’ll get it,” Delilah said quickly. “Wait here. Abyss, stay with her.”

The panther let out a low, rumbling growl in response, its yellow eyes sharp even in the rain.

Clarissa smiled faintly and stood near the doorway, watching the rain streak across the glass.

Then, without warning, Abyss let out a thunderous snarl, its muscles tensing.

Clarissa startled—but relaxed when she turned and saw who it was. “Mark? What are you doing here?”

He ignored the beast’s warning growl and stepped closer. “Can we talk?”

Clarissa studied him curiously. Something about him had always felt oddly familiar, though she couldn’t say why. After a pause, she nodded. “Go ahead.”

Mark hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Do you… remember anything from your childhood?”

Under Clarissa’s slightly startled gaze, Mark spoke again, his tone low but firm.

“I know you’re not really from this world. And you’re not the Lancaster family’s heiress, either. Your name is also Clarissa—the name given to you by the first director of the orphanage.”

Clarissa froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What did you just say? How do you… how could you possibly know that?”

Mark held her gaze steadily. “When you were six, the director who adopted you couldn’t afford to keep you anymore. She sent you to another orphanage. That was the day you met a boy—a horrible little brat who bullied you all the time, scared you, made you cry just to see your face twist up…”

Clarissa’s breath caught. Her heart pounded as she took an involuntary step back. “You… don’t tell me you’re—”

“Clarissa,” Mark blurted, his composure breaking, “it’s me! I’m Matthias!”

For a long second, Clarissa just stood there, stunned. Her mind was blank. Then, like a crack splintering through glass, something deep within her memory began to break open—small, half-forgotten flashes of another life surfacing one after another.

She clutched her head, pain stabbing through her skull.

“Clarissa!” Mark tried to move closer, but she stopped him with a sharp gesture. “Don’t come any closer!”

Her eyes blazed as she looked up at him. “Even if what you’re saying is true—so what? I waited for you like an idiot back then. I stood in the rain for hours, only to find out you’d transferred schools… and got engaged to the daughter of some rich bastard!”

“I know,” Mark said, his voice trembling. “I know everything. It’s my fault, all of it. But I didn’t leave you on purpose. I… I was ambushed, Clarissa. There was an accident. When I woke up, I was already in this world. I don’t even know how you got here before me.”

Clarissa swayed unsteadily, a sharp pain tearing through her temples again.

Seeing her stumble, Mark rushed forward and caught her. “Clarissa! What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” She took a shaky breath and steadied herself, then looked up at him. “Are you really Matthias?”

The anger in her eyes softened—just slightly. Mark’s voice cracked as he whispered, “It’s me, Clarissa. It’s really me.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “You’ve suffered so much… but I’m here now. I came to fulfill my promise from all those years ago. From now on, let me protect you. No one—nothing—will ever separate us again.”

She stood stiffly in his embrace, her thoughts a blur.

Nearby, Abyss, who had been silently watching, rose to its feet, muscles tensing. The panther didn’t understand what was happening, but its golden eyes stayed locked on Mark—ready to rip him apart.

Not far away, someone else was watching, too. A pair of eyes gleamed from the shadows—cold, sharp, and filled with killing intent.

Clarissa stared blankly into the distance, her mind slipping further into the haze.

Her memories of her past life were fragmented—just flickers of an orphanage and a kind director echoing faintly in her mind.

When she finally looked up again, she shoved Mark away with a sudden burst of strength.

He stumbled backward, startled. “Clarissa? What’s wrong? Are you still angry with me?”

Her expression had turned calm, almost detached. “Even if you are Matthias… it’s all a bit too much for me right now.”

Mark exhaled slowly, relieved that she wasn’t outright rejecting him. “That’s okay. I’ve been wanting to explain everything to you. I know I must’ve scared you.”

He reached out and took her hand. “I’ll wait for you. This time, I’ll keep my promise.”

Clarissa opened her mouth to reply—but before she could speak, Delilah’s voice rang out behind them.

“Clarissa! I found the umbrella!”

Mark’s hand tightened, then reluctantly let go. He forced a small smile as he watched Clarissa turn and walk away with Delilah, Abyss padding silently behind them.

That Night — The Wraith Estate

When Phoenix entered the room, she found Clarissa sitting alone at the table, staring at nothing. Her expression was distant, unreadable.

Phoenix’s gaze flicked toward Delilah. The girl instantly shook her head, wide-eyed, mouthing, I didn’t say anything!

Phoenix sat down beside Clarissa. “You look off. What happened?”

Clarissa blinked and slowly came back to herself. “Nothing. I just… met someone today.”

“What kind of someone?”

Clarissa hesitated. She didn’t even know where to begin. That name—Matthias—had dragged up feelings she didn’t know how to process.

Phoenix saw the faint crease between Clarissa’s brows and chuckled softly. “Alright, forget it. If you don’t want to talk, don’t. It’s late—get some rest. I’ll arrange for you to go to Callum’s in a few days.”

Clarissa nodded absently.

That night, she dreamt.

She was small again—running across a field of green grass. Someone was calling her name. She tripped, fell hard, and cried out.

A boy ran up and offered her his hand. “Clarissa, are you okay? Hey—what’s that big scar on your head? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Scar?” she echoed, confused. “I’ve never—”

Before she could finish, everything went white.

Clarissa jolted awake, her heart pounding. She sat up abruptly, gasping for air.

Delilah stirred beside her, rubbing her eyes. “Clarissa… what’s wrong? Bad dream?”

Clarissa didn’t answer. She reached out and grabbed Delilah’s hand, pressing it against the side of her head. “Delilah—check for me. Do I have a scar here?”

Clarissa pulled Delilah closer to the lamp, lowering her head. Her hair was thick and silky, hiding her scalp completely. Delilah carefully parted it with her fingers and gasped softly.

“Oh my… there’s really a scar here. Clarissa, have you been hurt before?”

Clarissa froze, her thoughts clouded. Why does this body have the same scar… as mine?

She took a slow breath and forced a faint smile. “It’s fine. Let’s get some sleep.”

Delilah still looked puzzled but nodded obediently. Clarissa gently tugged her down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over her.

“Sorry for waking you,” Clarissa whispered, patting her back lightly. “Go back to sleep.”

Within moments, Delilah drifted off again, her breathing evening out. But Clarissa didn’t sleep a wink. She lay awake, staring into the darkness, her mind churning until the first rays of dawn.

.....

The next morning, Clarissa rose early, washed, dressed, and decided to go see Mark at the company. Delilah and Abyss followed as usual.

When they arrived, Mark’s gaze lingered on her with a burning intensity. He stepped forward instinctively, but Clarissa had already moved past him, settling into her chair. She gestured calmly.

“Sit.”

Mark froze. Her cool tone cut deep, and the distance between them felt sharper than any blade.

He sat down stiffly, his expression clouded. “Clarissa… did you need something from me?”

Clarissa studied him. The boy she remembered was long gone—replaced by a man, composed and handsome, carrying himself with quiet confidence. He’d grown into someone who commanded attention effortlessly.

But all she felt was weariness.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “I can’t start anything new right now.”

Mark’s fingers curled tightly at his sides. He stood abruptly, emotion cracking his composure. “Is this because of Atticus? Clarissa, this isn’t something new! We were in love first. You can’t just reject me because of him!”

“Mark, calm down.” She didn’t even flinch. “Yes, I liked you. But that was a long time ago.”

Her words hit him like a punch. He took a shaky step back. “Clarissa… what are you saying?”

“I got seriously ill that year,” she said quietly. “I lost most of my memories. Whatever I felt back then—it’s gone. Twenty years is a long time. Those old feelings faded away with time.”

“That’s not the point!” Mark snapped, stepping closer. He grabbed her hand, his voice breaking. “Feelings can come back, Clarissa. If you meet the right person, it doesn’t matter how much time passes. You can fall in love again—please, just believe me.”

Clarissa hesitated for a brief moment before gently pulling her hand free.

“I don’t know much about love,” she said, her tone even, “but I know what I want—and what I don’t. I can’t accept anyone else right now. I’m sorry, Mark.”

Mark swayed slightly, his expression crumbling. “Clarissa…”

She felt a pang of guilt but couldn’t bring herself to give him false hope. She was too tired—emotionally spent.

And whatever feelings she’d once had for Matthias… they no longer stirred in her chest. Seeing him again brought confusion, not desire. Nostalgia, not love.

Clarissa let out a small sigh and rose from her chair. “I’ve said what I needed to say. If you want to resign, do it. I’m leaving.”

“Clarissa!”

He tried to follow, but Abyss stepped between them, baring its sharp teeth with a deep, guttural growl.

Mark stopped dead. He wasn’t afraid of the panther—but he forced himself to rein it in. He understood. After what Atticus had done to her, she couldn’t just let another man in. Not yet.

He drew a long breath and watched her go, his heart heavy but his temper cooling.

......

When Clarissa returned to the Wraith estate, Phoenix was still out. Lately, she’d been swamped—handling delicate matters that weren’t simple. She often came home late, sometimes not at all.

Still, there were always guards stationed outside Clarissa’s room—Phoenix’s people. Their constant presence should have been reassuring, but something about it made Clarissa uneasy.

Every time she asked, Phoenix just smiled and brushed it off. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

But Clarissa couldn’t shake the feeling that all of this—every bit of tension in the air—had something to do with him.

Where are you now, Atticus? What are you planning?

Before she realized it, her heart had started to race. Clarissa drew in a sharp breath, forcing the thought away, and turned toward Delilah.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go inside.”

The heavy door shut behind them, and the guards outside resumed their silent watch.

At dinner, Delilah slumped over the table, her voice small and pouty. “Clarissa, I’m so bored. Can’t we go out and play?”

Clarissa smiled faintly and reached out to ruffle her hair. “You’ve had it rough lately. Once I go see my grandfather, you can go wherever you like.”

“But I want to go with you!” Delilah brightened suddenly, her eyes sparkling. “Oh! I’ll come with you—and I’ll bring Kitty! Didn’t you say the place is near the mountains? Kitty would love it there.”

Clarissa’s smile softened, her eyes warm. “Alright, you can come. Grandpa will be happy to meet you too.”