Morning came with a faint, pale light.
The rain from the night before had stopped, leaving behind damp air and the earthy scent of wet soil.
Behind the curtain of her room, Alysa sat motionless on the edge of her bed.
Her body was still cold, her heart felt like it no longer belonged to her.
Her eyes were swollen, her lips dry, and her entire being looked like a shadow stripped of its soul.
She stared into the mirror before her.
The face staring back was still hers-but empty.
Slowly, she raised a trembling hand and touched her own cheek, as if to make sure she was still alive.
But all she felt was emptiness.
The door suddenly opened.
Raisa entered with confident steps, wearing a silk robe and a triumphant smile.
> "A beautiful morning, isn't it?" she said lightly, pouring coffee into a crystal cup.
"You should be grateful, Alysa. Last night, you saved your father's life-and your future, too."
Alysa looked at her, expressionless.
> "My future?" her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
"You call this my future? I just sold my dignity."
Raisa's smile didn't waver. She sat elegantly on the velvet chair in the corner of the room.
> "Oh, don't be so dramatic, dear. The world doesn't care about dignity-it only cares about money."
She patted a large envelope on the table beside her.
> "One hundred billion. Already transferred. Your father's hospital bills will be paid today. You should thank me."
Alysa's fingers clenched the bedsheet tightly, her eyes filling with tears.
> "Thank you? For selling me, Mother?"
Raisa tilted her head slightly, still smiling.
> "You talk as if you're a victim. But in truth, you're the hero of this story. Without you, your father would be dead."
Her voice was light, almost playful-but to Alysa, every word felt like a knife slicing through her skin.
Alysa stood up slowly, her gaze hollow yet steady.
> "I'll keep my promise, Mother. When Father gets better, I'll leave this house. I won't stay here any longer."
Raisa laughed softly.
> "Oh, sweetheart, do you think the world out there is waiting for you with open arms? You have nothing, Alysa. After last night, even your pride doesn't belong to you anymore."
Alysa looked straight at her, tears rolling silently down her face.
> "Maybe I've lost everything... but at least I still have a heart.
Something you've never had."
For a brief moment, Raisa's face stiffened. But she quickly covered it with a mocking smile.
> "Believe me, darling... the heart will give you nothing but pain."
She grabbed her handbag and walked out, the rhythmic sound of her high heels echoing across the marble floor.
As soon as the door closed, Alysa collapsed onto the floor.
Her restrained sobs burst free.
She hugged herself tightly, her body shaking uncontrollably.
> Kenan... if you knew who I was last night, you would hate me.
I'm tainted. I'm no longer the Alysa you loved.
Her trembling hand reached for the dressing table.
There, lying quietly, was a simple ring-Kenan's ring.
She picked it up with shaking fingers and pressed it to her chest, tears streaming endlessly down her face.
---
Across the city, in the same grand room that had witnessed last night's tragedy, Kenan sat on the balcony, staring at the gray sky.
His body felt stronger than before, but his mind was clouded with confusion.
Every time he closed his eyes, the image of the masked woman appeared-her eyes, her gaze, the silent tears that fell without a word.
> "Why can't I forget her?" he murmured softly.
"I don't even know who she is."
Footsteps approached.
Madam Liora, his mother, entered with a look of relief.
> "Kenan," she said gently. "The doctor said you're improving. Your body's responding well after... that therapy."
Kenan turned to her, his tone cold.
> "Therapy?" he scoffed bitterly. "You mean... that night?"
Liora sighed and sat beside him.
> "I know you hate me for it. But I had no choice, my son. I couldn't lose you."
Kenan's eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
> "Do you think I'm happy, Mother? I don't even remember her face, but somehow... I feel like I've known her before."
Liora's expression softened with pity.
> "Don't dwell on it. She was just a hired girl. Nothing more."
Kenan turned sharply, his voice rising.
> "Nothing more?"
His eyes burned red as he glared at her.
> "If she's nothing, then why does it feel like I've lost something I was never meant to lose?!"
Liora froze, startled by his intensity.
Kenan lowered his head, clutching his temples.
> "Those eyes... that voice... even the way she cried.
It's as if I've known her before."
He stood and walked to the table, picking up a small note left by the servant that morning-an anonymous message about the masked woman.
There was only one line written in faded ink:
> "She came from the north, sent by a woman named Raisa."
Kenan read the name again and again.
Raisa.
The name stirred something in his memory.
> Raisa... isn't that Alysa's stepmother?
His heartbeat quickened.
A dreadful suspicion began to grow inside him.
He closed his eyes, and Alysa's face appeared in his mind-her tears, her trembling voice, her quiet surrender.
> "No... it can't be," he whispered.
"But... why do I feel like this is all about her?"
---
That evening, Alysa sat beside her father's hospital bed, watching him sleep.
The slow rhythm of the IV drip filled the room.
Her hand clasped his weak one tightly.
> "Father..." her voice cracked.
"You'll get better, won't you? None of this will be in vain, right?"
Her father didn't respond-only his steady breathing answered her.
Alysa lowered her head and kissed the back of her own trembling hand that held his.
Tears fell once more.
She wanted to confess-to tell him everything-but she knew it wouldn't change a thing.
All she had left now were guilt and a love she could no longer claim.
---
Night descended.
Kenan stood on his balcony again, gazing up at the star-dusted sky.
The cool night breeze carried the faint scent of rain from earlier.
He looked up and whispered softly,
> "Why does it feel like I've lost you, Alysa?"
At that very moment, in a small dim room at Raisa's house, Alysa stood before a mirror.
She stared at her reflection-red eyes, pale lips, an empty soul.
Her hand touched the cold surface of the mirror, as if reaching for something beyond it.
> "Kenan..." she whispered weakly.
"If only you knew... I was the masked woman."
