Liana didn't go to school that day. She had taken the day off for one reason only: she was finally going to see her so-called fiancé. Just as she was about to leave, her phone rang. The caller ID made her breath catch. "Master…" Her voice trembled, and her eyes stung unexpectedly. After living another life, hearing that familiar voice hit deeper than she expected. No one else could understand what it meant.
"Liana," the calm voice on the other end said, "you're safe now, aren't you?"
"I'm fine, Master." She hesitated. "Why do you ask?"
"I need you to do something for me."
"Just say the word." There was no hesitation. Whatever her master asked, she would do it.
"I need you to find someone," he said. "His name is Adrian Carlisle. Help him. He needs saving."
Liana frowned. "Adrian Carlisle? Who is he?"
"You'll figure it out," he replied. "That man is extremely important to you." Important to her? She couldn't recall anyone by that name in her previous life.
"Liana, I know you've been reborn. You came back from the edge of death. And the reason you're alive… is because of him." Her heart slammed violently. He knew. Not only about her rebirth, but also the cause behind it.
"Master… what do you mean?" she whispered.
"I'll explain when I see you. For now, just do as I asked."
"…Alright. I understand."
The call ended. Liana stood, phone pressed to her ear, thoughts in chaos. She had believed she was the only one who knew she'd returned from death. Yet her master spoke as if it were fact. And Adrian Carlisle—someone she didn't even remember—had supposedly saved her life? Looks like I'll have to meet him myself.
"Liana, aren't we heading out?" Dahlia called from the doorway. "We're going to see your fiancé."
"Yes," Liana replied quietly. "Let's go." As they walked, Dahlia spoke, worry etched across her face. "Poor Adrian… full-body paralysis. Even worse than your father's condition. He used to be wealthy too, but now…" She sighed. "Life really is cruel."
Liana froze. "Mom—what did you say his name was?"
"Adrian. Adrian Carlisle." The same name her master had just given her. Her fiancé… and the man she was told to save were the same person. Was this coincidence? Or fate?
"Liana? Are you alright?" Dahlia asked.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing calm. "How much farther?"
"Not far. Willowbrook Village is small—just across to the other end."
A hoarse shout rang out before they reached the house. "Water! Get me some water! Woman, are you deaf?!" Inside, a gaunt man lay rigid on a narrow bed, glaring weakly at an older woman standing nearby. She rolled her eyes. "What rotten luck, taking care of a useless cripple," she muttered. "Lying there all day, doing nothing. Can't you eat and drink less? This place stinks."
She brought a glass of water—but didn't help him drink. She tilted it carelessly; most spilled onto his face and soaked the blanket. "You—!" Adrian's voice trembled with rage. His fists twitched uselessly. He was trapped—fully conscious, completely powerless.
"Hah!" the woman sneered. "You think I'm scared of you? Be grateful I even brought water. Still dreaming you're some rich young master? Not even worth a stray dog now."
"Get out! Get the hell out!" Adrian roared. The woman scoffed. "If it weren't for the paycheck, I wouldn't even wipe your ass." She nearly collided with Liana and Dahlia at the door.
"Who're you?" she snapped.
Dahlia smiled politely. "We're here to see Mr. Carlisle." The woman looked shocked. In a whole year, not a single visitor had come. "And why?" she asked warily.
"My daughter is his fiancée," Dahlia said softly. "We came to check on him." The woman glanced at Liana with pity. "Go on in," she said indifferently. A suffocating stench hit them. Dahlia instinctively covered her nose.
"Get out!" Adrian roared, thinking the woman had returned. Dahlia flinched. "Such a terrible temper…" Liana didn't react. She walked forward calmly, meeting the man on the bed. He was frighteningly thin—sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, hair greasy and overgrown. A wreck. Yet his voice was strong. Fire still burned in him.
Then he saw her. The setting sun bathed her in soft light. "…Who are you?" he demanded.
"Are you Adrian Carlisle?" Liana asked quietly. So it wasn't a dream. His eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"
Dahlia stepped forward. "Mr. Carlisle, this is my daughter, Liana—the one you're engaged to."
Adrian laughed coldly. "Bullshit. I've met your daughter. She didn't look like this." A year ago, Seraphina Bellamy had come—mocked him, insulted him, told him to hurry up and die. That face was burned into his memory.
"There was a mix-up at birth," Dahlia explained. "Seraphina isn't ours. Liana is. She's the one truly engaged to you."
Adrian went silent. "I don't care about your family drama," he said flatly. "Why are you here? To cancel the engagement? To tell me to stop dreaming?"
Liana met his gaze without flinching. "I'm here to help you." Before he could respond, she lifted the blanket covering his legs. "What the hell are you doing?!" Adrian snapped.
"Helping," she replied calmly. "How else can I do that if I don't see the problem?"