In the days that followed, Rose slowly began to regain awareness. Though she had lost her memories, she hadn't lost her will. She could speak, she could feel, and she could still ask questions.
She turned to her doctors and asked, "What can be done about my left side?"
One of them hesitated, then mentioned a name: Dr. Mary — a cybernetic implant specialist and a student in orthopedic surgery. Not yet a full specialist.
"Call her here," Rose said firmly.
When Dr. Mary arrived, Rose looked at her and asked, "Can you fix me?"
Dr. Mary paused, her eyes full of something heavier than hesitation — fear.
She explained, "Many parents came to me in desperation, forcing me to perform orthopedic surgeries on their children, even though I told them I wasn't fully trained. I offered prosthetics, safer options, but they refused. 'Why turn our children into robots?' they said. They mocked me… accused me of incompetence. I warned them, begged them to reconsider. But they didn't listen. I did as they forced — and none of those children survived."
Silence fell.
Rose, without hesitation, reached out and held Dr. Mary's trembling hand. Her voice was calm, yet filled with power.
"It wasn't your fault," she said. "You warned them. They didn't listen. That is their burden to carry, not yours. But I'm not like them. If something goes wrong, I'll tell the world — it was my choice. I'll own it. I choose this path, and I'll walk it till the end."
The room went silent again — this time not from shame, but awe.
Then Rose added, "You said you specialize in cybernetic implants. Then have faith in your gift. I believe in you. And once this is done, I promise — I'll make sure the world knows your name. You'll be known not for your past, but for your strength. For your brilliance. Those who looked down on you will one day look up to you."
Dr. Mary's eyes welled with tears. For the first time in years, she felt something she thought she'd lost — hope. She nodded. "Then I'll do it."
Rose signed the papers, placing her future in Dr. Mary's hands.
The surgery began.
And it was a success.
But Rose didn't open her eyes.
Two days passed. Her heart rate was stable. She was breathing. But she remained unconscious.
Dr. Mary, her bosses, coworkers, and loved ones prayed beside her bed. On the third day, doctors warned: "If she doesn't wake up within two more days… she may be in a permanent coma."
No one gave up. They clung to the tiniest thread of hope.
"In the heart of darkness, even a pinhole of light can brighten everything."
On the fifth day, just as dawn broke, her eyes fluttered open.
She saw them all — sleeping beside her, tear-streaked and exhausted. And she cried. Her tears were silent, but pure.
One by one, they awoke. And when they saw her — truly awake — the room erupted in tears, laughter, and long, aching embraces.
But the joy was bittersweet.
She still didn't remember them.
Or herself.
Yet something had changed.
Lying in the hospital, somewhere between life and death, she began to see things.
Not with her eyes, but with something deeper.
She remembered… dreams. Or were they memories?
Voices. Faces. A woman who looked just like Celina.
And above all — the feeling that she didn't belong to the life she had lived.
Because she was never meant to.
When she awoke from her five-day coma, her body was weak… but her soul was stirring.
Something inside her refused to rest until she found the truth.
With the help of those who cared for her, she began searching for answers.
Documents. Birth records. Hospital files. Hidden names in sealed archives.
And then… the truth unraveled.
She was not the daughter of the people who raised her.
She was the first cousin of the King.
She was the only child of the late Crown Prince Amiri and Crown Princess Selina.
And her real name… was not Rose.
It was Dahlia Zahrah Amiri.
Royalty — not by throne or crown, but by blood.
Then came a revelation that stunned even her —
Crown Princess Selina had a twin sister.
Her name was Celina — the woman who had been her boss, her mentor, her protector.
Celina had known something, but not everything.
Not until now.
She learned the story of how her late mother and father had died. How her late mother, her foster mother, and her mother Celina had all been in the same hospital that fateful day. How one life ended, one began, and another changed forever.
Piece by piece, the puzzle was put together.