Emily's eyes ached; it was the same dull pain she used to feel after spending entire nights solving chemical formulas in her mind.
After all, for eighteen years, she had done nothing but watch that girl destroy her life with her own hands.
"I confirm the documents, Mr. Benjamin."
The voice of an old man reached her ears, and she immediately recognized it—it was the headmaster of the orphanage.
She tried to open her eyes, but everything appeared blurry.
"Ah, can we take her home now?" a sickly voice asked. Emily squinted, trying to remember where she had heard it before.
As her vision cleared, she noticed two figures sitting in front of her. She could only see their backs—the man wore a black business suit, and the woman was dressed in something clearly expensive.
"Yes, yes, of course. You can take her anytime. You just need to sign these documents," the headmaster said.
The man picked up a pen and began to read, while the woman stood and turned toward Emily.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the girl awake, then softened, filling with so much warmth that Emily could see countless emotions reflected in her hazel gaze.
"Daughter, you're awake? Did you sleep well?"
Emily's breath hitched as she recognized the woman in front of her.
Daughter, huh... She glanced around the orphanage head's office. Then down at her arms.
I can move… Her brows furrowed.
"Emily…" the woman spoke again, concern lacing her voice.
"Why isn't she answering..." The thought was not Emily's but from her old reflex. Emily was used to staying silent; after all, they were never truly talking to her, the consciousness trapped inside.
"Penelope, the paperwork is done."
Emily turned toward the deep voice.
William looked from his wife to the girl. He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to truly see this girl as his daughter, only as a necessary medicine for Penelope."
He had agreed to the adoption only because of his wife's worsening health.
After their real daughter went missing, Penelope had fallen gravely ill, her mind slowly slipping into delusion.
She constantly demanded to have her daughter back. And then, one day while shopping, she saw this girl and became convinced she had found her lost child.
***
***
"Emily."
Emily was staring out the car's rearview mirror when she heard her name. She turned her head forward.
Her brow arched slightly when she noticed the nervousness and concern in Penelope's eyes.
"Dear, w-when we reach home, don't mind if your brothers say something, alright?" Penelope forced a small, uneasy smile.
Emily blinked, then gave a silent nod before turning her gaze back to the window.
She didn't have any hopes of hearing kind words from her stepbrothers—the ones who adored their missing sister.
Back when Emily could do nothing but watch her life unfold from within, she had seen how the Goodman brothers weren't kind to the girl at first.
But with time, they had accepted her.
Until the day she accidentally shattered the vase their sister had cherished.
After that, their warmth vanished. Coldness replaced affection.
The girl had been terrified of losing their love. Having grown up without a family, her childish heart couldn't bear the pain of being ignored again.
Although their lack of affection was short-lived, it left a deep scar on her heart. She began to fear that the love they showed her wasn't truly meant for her, but for their real sister.
And as that fear grew heavier with time, she started to dread the thought of their sister's return.
Emily shook her head, pushing those thoughts away—there was no point in dwelling on them.
She just wanted to grow up and build her own company, just like she had in her previous life. It would even be easier this time, in this less-developed era.
The lively streets gradually faded as they entered a wealthy neighborhood filled with villas and grand mansions.
Emily watched as the car stopped before a large iron gate. It swung open, and they drove through the sprawling garden of the Goodman estate.
"Welcome back, sir and madam."
A man in his fifties greeted them—the first person Emily saw as she stepped out.
"Where are my sons, Butler Hubert?" William asked, turning to look at him, displeasure clear on his face. His sons hadn't even come out to greet their sister, despite his instructions.
"Ah…" Hubert's lips twitched before he let out a quiet sigh. He glanced toward the mansion, then leaned closer to whisper something in William's ear.
When he finished, William's expression darkened immediately.
"Penny, let's go inside first."
William glanced at Penelope, who nodded with a faint smile—despite the pain flickering in her eyes.
Meanwhile...
On the second floor of the Goodman mansion, three young figures were gathered in a bedroom, the eldest around seventeen, the youngest about twelve.
"Lewis, when are you going to sit down and stop acting like a stalker?" Henry murmured from the bed, his eyes fixed on his book.
"Who said I'm stalking?" Lewis shot back, turning away from the window. His blue eyes glimmered with irritation as he walked over and dropped onto the sofa.
"Henry, are you really just going to sit there and watch all this happen? Aren't you going to do something?" Lewis demanded, frustration creeping into his voice.
"What can I do?" Henry replied, closing his book with a sigh. "Didn't you see how Mom's health improved after she met that girl? She's better now than she's been in years."
"But still…" Lewis muttered, pushing himself to his feet. "You two just don't understand."
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room.
"He's really not good at handling his emotions," James remarked.
Henry nodded at the comment and lifted his book again, resuming his reading.
Meanwhile, James stood up calmly and walked out of Henry's room.