Elena Sinclair awoke to the soft chiming of her crystal wind bells tapping gently against the morning breeze. It was her favorite sound—light, delicate, like a whisper from another world. Sunlight poured through the sheer pastel curtains of her room, bathing everything in a pink-gold glow. Her room always looked like morning had chosen her as its home—soft, gentle, and full of secret warmth.
Her eyelashes fluttered open. She stretched against her cotton-soft sheets, reaching toward the ceiling as though she could feel the sunlight on her fingertips. Then, smiling to herself, she pushed aside the fluffy comforter covered in tiny embroidered stars.
Another day.
Another page in her fairytale.
She slipped out of bed and tiptoed toward her window seat—her sanctuary. As she opened the white wooden frame, cool air rushed in, carrying the scents of roses and jasmine from the gardens below. The world outside shimmered with quiet beauty.
And then came the fluttering.
Dozens of tiny sparrows and doves waited on the railing of her balcony, chirping impatiently, as though scolding her for waking late.
"I'm here, I'm here," she laughed softly, her voice a melody of its own.
She sprinkled the seeds she kept in a glass jar, and the birds hopped closer, fearless around her. They trusted her—almost worshiped her—as if sensing her gentle nature. Elena touched one of the smaller sparrows gently on its head.
"You're grumpy today," she teased. "Didn't sleep well? I understand. I didn't either."
The bird chirped loudly in response, making her laugh.
Anyone who saw Elena might think she lived in a dream. Maybe she did.
Her world was soft. Her heart was softer.
Her hopes were made of fairy lights and folded wishes.
She believed in love stories with all her innocent intensity. She believed in kindness the way others believed in logic. And she believed—without hesitation—that somewhere in the world, her prince charming existed. Maybe he was lost. Maybe he was late. But he would come.
Her mother often told her she lived with her head among clouds, and Elena never denied it. After all, clouds were beautiful.
She stepped back inside her room.
It truly looked like something carved out of a fairytale—pastel wallpapers with tiny silver constellations, shelves filled with romance books, glass jars full of pressed flowers, a vanity draped with white ribbons, and a ceiling covered in twinkling fairy lights that she never turned off at night. Her bed frame was white and carved like vines; soft pink cushions sat scattered everywhere.
A dreamer lived here.
And the world could see it.
She changed into her favorite soft blue dress, the one with small pearl buttons. It floated around her like a cloud when she walked. She brushed her long, silky hair and braided a strand on one side, decorating it with a tiny white flower. She picked it from her own vase—fresh lilies she had cut last night.
Before leaving, she stood in front of her mirror.
"Today will be beautiful," she whispered. "I can feel it."
And then she smiled at herself—a warm, hopeful smile that could melt snow.
Elena came from a wealthy family, but she never wore that wealth like an accessory. The Sinclairs owned multiple businesses, including hotels, real estate, and a few international investments—but Elena never cared for any of it. She respected money, but she worshiped love, honesty, loyalty… things that couldn't be bought.
Her parents adored her. Her father treated her like a delicate treasure; her mother valued her innocence more than anything. But the person Elena loved most in the world was her younger sister, Sienna.
Beautiful, stylish, dramatic Sienna.
Two years younger, a little reckless, always the center of the universe.
But Elena adored her with every heartbeat.
Sienna stormed into her room just then, tossing her hair dramatically.
"Elena! You're going to be late again," she said, adjusting her pink lip gloss in the mirror. "I swear, you live in another universe."
"I like my universe," Elena smiled.
"Well, your universe is slow," Sienna groaned. "Hurry up. Dad already left for his meeting."
Elena grabbed her pastel-blue bag and followed her sister downstairs. The mansion smelled of freshly baked croissants and warm coffee. The chandeliers glittered like diamonds overhead. The staff greeted them politely—Elena always replied kindly, remembering each one's name.
She respected everyone.
From her drivers to her father's business partners.
From the maids to the gardeners.
Everyone mattered to her.
The girls ate breakfast together, though Sienna complained more than she ate.
"Elena," Sienna said, taking a small bite of her croissant, "you need to stop reading romance books. They're ruining you."
"Why? " Elena asked innocently.
"Because you actually believe in soulmates," Sienna said, rolling her eyes. "It's unrealistic."
Elena laughed softly, her eyes twinkling.
"Maybe. But beautiful things usually are."
Sienna shook her head. "Hopeless romantic."
Elena didn't deny that either.
When she reached her university campus, Elena felt the familiar excitement bloom inside her. University was her second home—bright walkways, old stone buildings covered in ivy, blooming gardens, and the soft hum of student chatter.
Her friends spotted her from across the courtyard.
"Elena!! Over here! "
"El, you look like spring today! "
"Our princess has arrived! "
She laughed as they surrounded her—Mia, soft and shy; Olivia, sarcastic but gentle; Grace, the wild one; and Hannah, who always smelled like vanilla and notebooks.
Elena loved them all.
And they loved her back with the same intensity.
"You forgot to reply to our group chat again," Olivia teased.
"She replies in her head," Grace said dramatically. "But the messages never reach her fingers."
"I was feeding the birds," Elena defended playfully.
And just like that, they all melted—because it was impossible to be mad at her.
They walked to class together, talked about everything from assignments to crushes, and laughed until their stomachs hurt. Elena soaked in the joy, grateful for every moment.
Her heart was full.
Too full.
Almost fragile.
But she didn't know how fragile until that afternoon.
After her last lecture, Elena headed to the library. She had a habit of getting lost in books—especially romance novels. She whispered love quotes under her breath as she walked between shelves, fingers brushing over book spines like old friends.
She found a new book, sat down, and lost herself in it.
Minutes turned into hours.
When she finally stood up, she realized something terrifying.
"My phone…"
Her heart dropped.
"It's not here."
She checked the desk, the floor, and her bag—nothing.
Panic rose inside her.
She hurried from shelf to shelf, searching desperately.
Then she heard the click of lights turning off.
The librarian locked the entrance.
"No—wait! " Elena called, running to the door.
But she was too late.
The librarian left from the back exit.
She was trapped.
Or worse… her phone was trapped.
And no one knew where she was.
Her driver must have been waiting outside for almost an hour.
Elena rushed out of the side emergency exit and onto the dim campus grounds. Evening shadows stretched across the empty pathways. The campus was usually loud, bright, and filled with people—but now it felt unfamiliar and cold.
She walked quickly toward the road.
The driver wasn't there.
Her phone was gone.
Her friends had already left.
She was alone.
Elena swallowed hard. She didn't like the dark. Too many places for fear to hide.
She stepped onto a quiet road leading toward the main gate.
Wind brushed her hair.
Leaves rustled.
Her footsteps echoed.
And slowly… panic began to rise.
"This is my fault," she whispered. "I should've remembered my phone."
The road stretched endlessly ahead of her.
Every turn looked the same.
Every lamppost flickered weakly.
Her chest tightened.
Her breaths came fast.
Tears pricked her eyes.
"Where am I? " she whispered, voice trembling.
She turned around.
And around again.
Nothing looked familiar.
Her heart broke a little more with each step.
Soon tears spilled down her cheeks.
She clutched her bag close and walked faster, but her vision blurred with tears. The quiet street felt too big, too empty, and too frightening.
"Please… please don't let anything bad happen," she whispered, crying harder.
Her footsteps faltered.
Then—
A bright pair of headlights burst around the corner.
Too bright.
Too fast.
Too close.
Elena froze.
The car swerved—
She stumbled—
A scream escaped her lips—
And before she could run—
The world went white as the car hit her.
Everything spun.
The sky flipped.
Her body felt weightless… then heavy.
She heard the screech of brakes.
Footsteps.
A voice shouting—far away, echoing.
Then darkness swept her like a wave.
And Elena Sinclair—
the girl who believed in magic,
the girl who fed birds,
the girl who trusted the world—
fell into a silence deeper than fear.