'Wait… Isn't this my allergy medicine?!' she realized.
"It's really her… Kiana!"
Leslie yanked open the drawer beside her. She froze in shock. It was full of items stolen from her room—perfume, jewelry, makeup… No wonder her belongings had been disappearing lately.
Her eyes landed on the bottom drawer, the only one locked.
What could be hidden in there?
She grabbed a piece of wire and carefully worked at the lock.
With a click, the drawer opened.
Inside, there were only three items—a diary, a padlock-shaped pendant, and a faded group photo.
The words written above the photo read: [Angel Welfare Home, 2008]
For some reason, Leslie's heart started racing.
She scanned the photo, looking at the young, innocent faces one by one.
Then she saw him—Denver.
Next, she saw Travis.
And finally, she saw… herself!
It was late at night.
In a quiet corner of the massive villa, Leslie sat clutching the diary, tears streaming down her face.
She had always been sharp—reading when she was three, writing when she was four, and her memory was sharper than most children of her age.
But after a car accident when she was seven, she couldn't remember anything before that.
Now, as she flipped through the diary, those lost memories came rushing back.
So this was her childhood.
She wasn't cursed or destined to be alone. She had once been loved—deeply, unconditionally.
She was the "Sister Kiana" Travis had spoken of!
She was the girl Denver had spent 16 years searching for!
When she was six, a wealthy man came to the welfare home.
He immediately took a liking to Kiana's natural beauty and wanted to adopt her as his daughter.
Fourteen-year-old Denver didn't trust the man and decided to escape, taking six-year-old Kiana and four-year-old Travis with him.
But during their escape, they got separated.
And that separation lasted more than 10 years.
Kiana grew up as Leslie, unknowingly crossing paths with Denver again.
The moment he saw her, Denver recognized her. But she insisted her name was Leslie, not Kiana.
Still, Denver kept her by his side and even decided to propose to her.
But fate had other plans.
Just as the wedding date was set, 'Kiana' came into the picture.
Leslie stared at the night sky, her heart full of questions.
"Who is this Kiana taking my place?"
"And who does Denver truly love?"
The stars twinkled back at her as if mocking her confusion.
Her mind spun with countless thoughts, but one image stayed: Kiana wrapping her arms around Denver's neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.
And Denver… didn't push her away.
'No. He didn't push her away,' Leslie recounted. 'Isn't that enough of an answer?'
She slowly wiped her tear-streaked face.
The wedding was in three days.
It was time for her final move.
The next day, Denver, Travis, and Kiana returned, dragging four oversized suitcases, clearly loaded with things they'd brought back.
Denver pulled Leslie into his arms, his tone warm and apologetic.
"My love, I'm so sorry I've been neglecting you. But I arranged for nurses to take care of you while I was gone. Did they do a good job?"
Leslie's gaze shifted to Kiana. "Nurses? Where are they?"
Of course, Kiana had secretly sent them away, and she quickly changed the subject.
"Leslie, I bought so many souvenirs for you. Let me show you!"
Leslie smirked, watching as Kiana opened her suitcase.
One by one, Kiana pulled out limited-edition shoes, bags, and jewelry, laying them across the floor. The room quickly filled with her spoils.
