Early autumn.
Burg Eltz International Airport.
A slender young woman pushed her suitcase through the arrival gate. She wore a soft camel-colored trench coat over black jeans, a matching knit sweater underneath, and leather ankle boots. Her shoulder-length hair fell loosely behind her ears. The outfit was simple, almost understated—yet on her, it looked refined.
Her skin was pale, her features delicate. The kind of quiet beauty that drew the eye without trying.
The long flight had taken its toll. Her eyes were slightly swollen and tinged red from fatigue. As soon as she stepped outside, she paused, lifted her gaze to the sky above the airport, as if gathering courage, then hailed a taxi and silently climbed in.
When she told the driver her destination—the Hospital—the man gave her a startled look.
Cecilia let out a bitter smile in her heart. Of all the things to rush to right after returning to her home she had to be the one heading straight to the hospital.
Leaning back in the seat, she closed her eyes.
Two years. Two years since she last set foot on this land. And yet the moment she returned, the memories she had tried so hard to bury surged up with painful clarity—
the chaos of that night,
the scandal that followed,
her father's furious voice, filled with disappointment,
her half-sister Lucca's mocking smirk,
her fiancé Gerald's rage that bordered on madness...
Her eyes snapped open.
They were beautiful almond-shaped eyes—now filled with sorrow and despair.
She once thought she had already forgotten.
She hadn't. Not even close.
If fate had allowed it, she would never have come back to this city.
Her plan was to settle in Australia, bring her mother over, and live quietly abroad—far away from rumors, far away from judgment.
But life had other plans.
The moment she graduated, she received news of her mother's sudden illness. She had no choice but to return.
If not for her mother… she would never have come back.
The taxi stopped at the hospital entrance. Cecilia paid the fare and grabbed her suitcase, heading straight toward the inpatient ward. If her neighbor, Mrs. Mussy, hadn't called, she wouldn't have even known her mother was in the hospital.
She remembered that call clearly. Mrs. Mussy's voice was choked with tears.
"En-en, child… you need to come back. Your mother… she's sick!"
Mrs. Mussy's voice had been trembling over the phone as she spoke.
"Two days ago, we were out buying groceries when your mother suddenly collapsed. I called an ambulance and rushed her to the hospital. After the examination… they said there's a tumor in her brain. They need to operate immediately."
"I told her we had to inform you, but she refused. She said she didn't want the surgery and insisted on being discharged. But the doctor said if she doesn't have the operation… she won't have much time left."
"So I had no choice. I went behind her back and called you. Please don't blame me, En-en. I couldn't just watch her die."
After that call, Cecilia's world shattered.
She had packed her luggage through tears, booked the earliest flight home, and cried almost the entire journey. Memories of her mother's struggles over the years flooded her mind—her sacrifices, her silent endurance, the betrayal from her husband… and now this cruel illness.
Why? Why must the heavens continue to torment a woman who had already suffered enough in her first half of life?
When Cecilia entered the ward, she saw her mother—Renata.
Renata froze only for a moment. Then, her expression returned to calm. She glanced at Cecilia and spoke softly, almost indifferently.
"You're back…"
Cecilia could hardly speak. She set down her suitcase and immediately said, "I'm going to find your attending physician. We need to discuss your surgery."
According to Mrs. Mussy, the doctor had clearly stated that her mother required immediate craniotomy to remove the tumor. Every day they delayed was another risk to her life.
But Renata reached out and stopped her.
"What's there to discuss? Even if the surgery can save me, can we even afford it?"
Cecilia froze mid-step.
Yes—her father, Magee Channing, was a prestigious jeweler in Burg Eltz. But she and her mother had lived in poverty for years.
Back when Magee insisted on divorcing Renata in order to marry Lucca's mother, Renata walked away with nothing. She refused alimony. She refused any assets.
People had called her foolish, but Renata had only said one sentence:
"He is filthy. His money is filthy. I don't want a single cent. I have my own hands and feet—I can raise my daughter myself."
That one sentence had slapped Magee's face so hard he couldn't show himself in public for months.
Renata had once been a primary school teacher. For years, her modest salary was all she had to raise Cecilia and send her to school. When Cecilia entered university, she stopped taking money from her mother and relied on part-time jobs and scholarships to pay tuition and living expenses. Renata eventually retired quietly, never asking anyone for help.
And Cecilia had never taken a penny from her father. Her mother would never allow it.
Her mother had saved up a little over the years. The plan had been simple—once Cecilia found stable work, they'd use the savings as a down payment and move into a new place. The apartment they lived in now was the old teachers' housing from Renata's school days. It was shabby and leaking at the seams.
But two years ago, when Cecilia graduated and everything fell apart, Renata had done something fearless. She took that nest egg and spent it on sending Cecilia overseas—away from the scandal, away from the gossip.
Because of that, the money that could have paid for Renata's surgery was gone.
The thought stabbed Cecilia in the chest. She turned her back on her mother and forced herself to speak, voice hard as stone.
"We'll do it. Even if we can't afford it, we'll do it. Don't worry about the operation costs."
Then she ran from the ward. On the floor where she had stood, a few drops of wetness left a small, dark stain.
Outside in the corridor, after she'd calmed herself, Cecilia went looking for Renata's attending physician. She described her mother's condition in precise, urgent terms. She asked everything—about prognosis, about risks, and, finally, about money.
The doctor was blunt. He recommended a craniotomy. If the surgery succeeded and the tumor proved benign after pathology, Renata would likely survive—with proper post-op care and rehabilitation. The risks were real. But without surgery, her mother's life was in imminent danger.
As for cost, the doctor gave a conservative estimate: a minimum of 150,000.
For Renata and Cecilia, that was not a small sum.
Cecilia's first instinct was to go to her father—Magee Channing—and ask him for the money. For a man like him, 150,000, even 1.5 million, was pocket change. But she stopped herself cold. Her mother would never accept money from Magee.
Renata hated Magee. She had walked away with nothing when he left them for Lucca's mother. Renata had said she'd rather live with dignity than take "filthy" money. Cecilia knew her mother too well.
Still, Cecilia wanted the surgery. The fee hung over everything like a storm cloud.
The doctor saw the conflict in her eyes.
"Go back and talk to the family," he said. "If that fails, ask friends and relatives for help. A life is more important than pride."
Cecilia nodded and left the office.
She didn't return immediately to the ward. Instead, she walked out into the hospital courtyard to clear her head.
It came down to one thing: borrowing money. She had almost no savings. The last two years in Australia had been a grind—part-time jobs, scholarships—just enough to survive. She hadn't even taken money from her mother. Where could she find such a large sum?
If there was no other way… she could sell the old teachers' apartment.
Just as Cecilia was drowning in worry over the medical fees, a taunting voice sliced through the air behind her.
"Well, well… look who's back. Big sister, you finally returned?"
Cecilia felt her entire body tense. She didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. In this world, only one person would talk to her in that mocking, sugar-coated tone—her half-sister, Lucca Channing.
She was sitting on a bench beside the flowerbed. The moment she heard the voice, she stood up without a word, intending to walk away.
But Lucca quickly darted in front of her, blocking her path with a bright, gleeful smile.
"I heard you came back, so I made special time to come see you."
Cecilia slowly lifted her eyes.
Lucca was dressed head to toe in designer brands—bright clothes, flawless makeup, her entire appearance like a porcelain doll crafted for display. In contrast, Cecilia stood in her travel-worn coat, clothes still wrinkled from the flight, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.
Once upon a time, Cecilia had lived just like Lucca—pampered, protected, adored—until age twelve, when the world she knew shattered.
She had never envied Lucca. Not really. Not until this moment.
Now, hatred ignited in her chest—hot, bitter, and overwhelming.
Hatred for her father's betrayal.
Hatred for his cold abandonment.
Because if he hadn't cast them aside… if he hadn't destroyed their family… her mother wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life.
Lucca tilted her head, smirking as she casually twisted the knife deeper.
"So? Did you manage to get the money for Renata's surgery yet?"