Chapter 2 Strangers at the Door

Elara was unconscious when the ambulance arrived. I rode with her to the hospital, holding her hand the entire way. The paramedics asked me questions I could not answer. Medical history. Medications. Allergies. I knew none of it. I realized with a sickening jolt that I knew nothing about the woman who had raised me. Not really.

They stabilized her at the hospital. Dehydration. Exhaustion. The cancer was spreading faster than the doctors had predicted. They kept her overnight for observation and told me to go home and rest. I did not rest. I sat in the waiting room until dawn, staring at the same four walls, the photograph and newspaper clipping burning in my pocket like live coals.

When they finally let me see her, she was awake. Pale. Fragile. But awake. I closed the door behind me and stood at the foot of her bed. She looked at my face and her eyes filled with tears.

"You found the box," she said. It was not a question.

"Who is Elizabeth Blackwood?" I asked. My voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came before a storm.

Elara closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. "She was your mother."The words hit me like a physical blow. I gripped the metal rail of the bed to keep from falling.

"My mother," I repeated. "You told me my parents died when I was a baby."

"I lied."

"Why?"

She opened her eyes and looked at me. Really looked at me. There was so much pain in her gaze that I almost had to look away.

"Because the truth would have gotten you killed," she whispered. "I was your nanny, Sera. I worked for the Blackwood family. When you and your sister were born, your mother, Eleanor, she... she did not want you. The delivery was difficult. It damaged her body. She blamed you for it. She wanted to get rid of you."

My stomach turned. "Get rid of me?"

"She told your father to leave you at the hospital. To say you died during birth. But I could not let that happen. I took you and I ran. I disappeared. I changed my name. I raised you as my own."

I stared at her. The woman who had tucked me in at night. Who had kissed my scraped knees. Who had told me stories about princesses and castles. She was a stranger. She had always been a stranger.

"You kidnapped me," I said. My voice cracked.

"I saved you," she corrected. Her voice was fierce despite her weakness. "Eleanor Blackwood is a monster. She would have destroyed you. I swore an oath to protect you, and I have kept that oath for twenty-three years."

"Who else knows?"

"No one. I never told a soul. Not until now."

I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to demand answers to a thousand questions. But before I could speak, the door opened. A nurse stepped in.

"Miss Morrow? There are some people here to see you. They say they're family."

My blood ran cold. I walked out of the room in a daze. The hallway was bright and sterile, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. And there, standing at the end of the corridor, were two people I had never seen before. The woman was tall and elegant, dressed in a black coat that probably cost more than I made in a year. Her hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. The man beside her was older, distinguished, with graying temples and a face that revealed nothing.

The woman smiled when she saw me. It was a cold smile. Calculated. "Seraphina," she said. Her voice was smooth as silk. "You look just like your sister."

I stopped walking. "Who are you?"

"I'm your mother," she said. "Eleanor Blackwood. And this is your father, Richard."

The world tilted. I grabbed the wall to steady myself. "My mother is dead."

Eleanor's smile did not waver. "No, darling. Your grandmother is dead. Or she will be, very soon, if you don't come with us."

The words hit me like a slap. "What did you just say?" Richard stepped forward. He looked uncomfortable, his hands shoved into his pockets. "We're not here to hurt you, Seraphina. We're here to take you home."

"I don't have a home with you," I spat. "You abandoned me. You left me to die."

Eleanor's expression flickered. Just for a moment. Then it was smooth again. "That was a mistake. One I intend to correct." Behind me, I heard a commotion. Elara was on her feet, IV pole in hand, stumbling toward us. A nurse tried to stop her, but she pushed past.

"Get away from her!" Elara screamed. Her voice was raw, desperate. "You stay away from her" Eleanor turned to look at her. Her lip curled. "You," she said. "The nanny. I should have known you were still alive. You always were a stubborn thing."

"You will not take her," Elara said. She planted herself between me and the Blackwoods, her thin body shaking. "I won't let you."

Eleanor sighed. It was the sound of a woman who was bored. "You're dying, Elara. Stage Four lung cancer. The doctors here told us. You have maybe three months left. Maybe less."

Elara flinched. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"We can afford treatments that could save her life," Eleanor continued, her eyes fixed on me. "Experimental treatments. The best doctors in the country. We can give her years instead of months. But only if you come with us."

I stared at her. "You're blackmailing me."

"I'm offering you a choice," Eleanor said. "Stay here with your dying nanny and watch her suffer. Or come home with your real family and save her life."

I looked at Elara. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head."Don't," she begged. "Don't go with them. They'll destroy you. Please, Sera. I would rather die than see you hurt."

I looked at the IV drip. The oxygen tank. The pile of unpaid bills on the bedside table. I thought about the eighty-six dollars I did not have. The forty-eight hours that had already run out. I thought about the way Elara had held me when I was a child. The stories she had told me. The love she had given me.And I thought about what my life would be without her. "Miss Blackwood," I said slowly. My voice was steady. "What do you want from me?"

Eleanor's smile widened. "I want you to come home. I want you to meet your sister. And I want you to take her place in a marriage that was arranged before you were born."

The words hung in the air. Elara let out a sob.

"What kind of marriage?" I asked.

"A very important one," Eleanor said. "To a very powerful family. The Valtorres. Your sister was promised to them years ago, but she has refused to honor the contract. We need someone who looks like her to take her place."

I felt sick. "You want me to pretend to be my sister and marry a stranger?"

"Three strangers," Eleanor corrected. "The Valtorre family has three sons. The contract requires that a Blackwood daughter marry all three."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. Three men. She wanted me to marry three men."That's insane," I whispered. "That's not even legal."

"Legal is a flexible word when you have enough money," Eleanor said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "This is a contract. It states that if you agree to the marriage, we will pay for Elara's treatment. All of it. Every penny. She will have the best care money can buy."

I took the paper with trembling hands. The words blurred before my eyes. All I could see was the number at the bottom. The cost of Elara's treatment. More money than I would make in ten lifetimes.

"Don't do it," Elara whispered. "Please, Sera. I'm not worth it."

I looked at her. My grandmother. My nanny. My only family. "You're worth everything," I said. I turned to Eleanor. "I have one condition."

"Name it."

"Elara receives treatment immediately. Before I go anywhere with you. I want to see the doctors. I want to see the paperwork. I want to know that she's being cared for."

Eleanor nodded. "Of course, darling. Family takes care of family." She said it so easily. Like it meant something. Like she had not abandoned me at birth and left me to die. I wanted to hate her. I wanted to scream at her. But I was too tired. Too broken.

"I'll go with you," I said. The words tasted like ash in my mouth. Elara cried out. She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so weak. "No. No, you can't."

"I have to," I said. "I won't let you die, Elara. I won't."

"You don't understand," she sobbed. "They're not your family. They're your executioners."

Eleanor stepped forward. "That's enough. We're leaving." She gestured to Richard, who stepped toward me. He took my arm gently, like he was afraid I might shatter. Maybe I would.

"I'll pack a bag," I said. My voice sounded hollow. Distant. Like it belonged to someone else.

Eleanor nodded. "Make it quick. We have a car waiting."

I walked back to the cottage one last time. The porch light was still on. The door was still unlocked. The soup bowl was still on the table. Everything looked the same. But nothing was the same. I was not the same.

I walked to my room and pulled a duffel bag from the closet. I threw in clothes. A toothbrush. The photograph of Elizabeth Blackwood. The newspaper clipping. I did not know why I kept them. Maybe because they were the only proof I had that my life before this moment had been real.

I was zipping up the bag when I felt a hand on my wrist. Elara stood behind me, swaying on her feet. She had followed me home. I did not know how. The hospital was a mile away. She must have walked. She must have run.

"You can't go," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. "They will hurt you. They will use you. And when they're done, they will throw you away like garbage."

"Then at least you'll be alive," I said. "That's all that matters."

"No." She shook her head. Tears streamed down her face. "You matter. You've always mattered. I should have told you the truth years ago. I should have prepared you. But I was afraid. I was so afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"Afraid of what, Elara?"

"They're not your family," she whispered. "They're your executioners." I stared at her. Her eyes were wild. Desperate. She gripped my arm so hard it hurt. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll watch your back. Promise me you'll never trust them."

"I promise," I said. The words felt like a lie. But I did not know what else to say. She pulled me into a hug. Her body was thin and frail, but her arms were strong. "I love you," she whispered. "I have loved you since the day you were born. You are my daughter. Not hers. Mine."

I hugged her back. I did not want to let go. But I had to. The Blackwoods were waiting. I walked out of the cottage and did not look back.The black car was sleek and silent. The leather seats were cold. Eleanor sat in the front, next to the driver. Richard sat beside me in the back. He did not speak. He did not look at me. He stared out the window like a man who was already somewhere else.

I watched the cottage disappear in the rearview mirror. I watched Willow Creek fade into the darkness. I watched my old life slip away.And I wondered if I would ever see it again.The car pulled onto the highway. The city lights of Blackthorn Bay glittered in the distance. A new world. A new life,a new nightmare.

Eleanor turned in her seat and smiled at me."Welcome home, Seraphina," she said. "You're going to love it here."

I did not answer. I just stared out the window and tried not to think about Elara's warning.They're not your family. They're your executioners,I did not know what that meant. But I was about to find out.