The director regarded Elara with a trace of regret in his eyes.
She had been the most outstanding doctor he had ever mentored—losing her was a true waste of talent.
After leaving the hospital, Elara walked to a nearby phone booth and dialed a familiar number.
"Van, the hospital has approved my appointment for the rural support program. I'll be leaving on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month."
On the other end, Evander’s voice burst with excitement.
"That’s great! I knew you’d figure things out. Everything’s been arranged—I’m just waiting for you to get here."
After hanging up, Elara stepped out of the phone booth, only for a military jeep to screech to a stop in front of her.
The window rolled down, revealing Stellan’s cold, unreadable expression.
"First day of the new year, and instead of being on duty at the hospital, you’re out wandering around. What are you up to? Looking for another wild man?"
Elara’s face paled. Just as she opened her mouth to retort, a familiar, sickeningly sweet voice cut in.
"Stellan said he’s going to marry me soon," Juliet chimed, poking her head out from beside him. "Today, as a soon-to-be son-in-law, he should pay respects to his future in-laws. You should come too, Elara!"
Stellan cast Elara a cold glance and scoffed.
"Someone as heartless and ungrateful as her? How could she possibly remember the adoptive parents who raised her?"
Stellan blocked her path before she could refuse, leaving Elara with no choice but to get into the car.
At the cemetery, she stood motionless in front of the tombstone, watching Juliet sob dramatically, pouring her grief into the cold stone as if she were the only daughter who had ever mattered.
Elara had come to the Whitmore Family when she was ten years old—along with a fortune.
Her parents, maritime traders, had perished in a tragic accident at sea, leaving her in the care of her aunt, Sylvia Whitmore. With her inheritance, the Whitmore Family quickly secured their place in Westbridge, using the power and wealth she brought to elevate themselves. Eventually, they even leveraged that very fortune to separate her from Stellan.
To say she didn't hate them would be a lie.
A mocking voice pulled her from her thoughts.
"You really are ungrateful," Stellan sneered. "Your adoptive parents raised you all those years, and you can't even shed a tear?"
"Stellan, don't say that about Elara," Juliet interjected with a gentle, understanding tone. "After all, she's not their biological daughter. I can understand her indifference. As long as our Whitmore Family has a clear conscience, that's what matters."
Stellan pulled Juliet into his arms, looking at her with heartache.
"You’re too kind, Juliet. That’s why you’ve always been bullied by this adopted daughter." His voice turned softer, yet his gaze remained locked on Elara, sharp and unrelenting. "Don't worry. From now on, I'll protect you. No one will ever dare to hurt you again."
Elara clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palm, tearing open the wound she had yet to treat.
The ride back was suffocatingly silent. Just as Elara was about to ask Stellan to drop her off at the next intersection, a speeding car suddenly lost control and veered straight toward them.
Stellan reacted instantly, yanking the steering wheel to the side. The impact sent their vehicle careening into a wall.
Elara and Juliet, both seated in the back, were thrown forward at the moment of collision.
At the last second, Stellan turned, shielding Juliet with his body.
Elara, unprotected, crashed headfirst into the windshield.
When the car finally came to a jarring stop, Stellan immediately turned to Juliet.
"Juliet, are you hurt?" His voice was laced with concern.
Juliet clung to him, trembling violently. "Stellan, my stomach... it hurts so much."
Without hesitation, Stellan kicked the car door open and carried her out in his arms.
Blood streamed down Elara’s forehead, blurring her vision. Every breath she took sent sharp, searing pain through her chest, as though her internal organs had been crushed. She tried to lift a hand—perhaps to call out, perhaps just to move—but no one even glanced back at her.
"Stellan," Juliet murmured weakly, her voice laced with hesitation. "What about Elara? She… she looks injured."
