Chapter 27: What Child?

Seraphina’s POV

I stared at him, completely lost. I didn’t know what Lucien was talking about. What had I done? How did I even end up here—in his bedroom of all places?

My head felt heavy, like I had just woken up from a dream that I didn’t even remember.

"Tell me," he said, his voice low, the warmth of his breath brushing against my ear, sending a chill down my spine. "What happened last night?"

I flinched slightly and turned to face him. "I... I really don’t remember," I said, my voice weak but honest. "I don’t know how I got here or why I’m in front of you right now. Everything just... is so blurry."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as they locked onto mine. There was something intense in his gaze, something that made it hard to breathe. "You remember nothing?"

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady. "No. I swear I don’t."

His eyes stayed on me for a long moment, unblinking as if he was searching my face for something. Then, finally, he straightened up and spoke again.

"You were crying for a child," he said, his voice low and steady. "Whose child were you begging for last night?"

"Ch... Child?" I repeated, my voice barely audible as I looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

His words hit me like a wave. My mind was already foggy and tired, struggling to make sense of everything. What was he saying? A child?

I blinked rapidly, trying to pull myself together. My heart started racing.

Did I... Did I ever have a child?

And if I did... why didn’t I remember?

"So, you really don’t know what happened?" he asked again, his voice calmer this time. I nodded slowly, still hugging myself tightly under the covers.

"Whatever," he muttered, waving a hand in the air in dismissal as he ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Go back to your room and come downstairs after getting ready."

"No!" I said firmly, shaking my head. The thought of going back to that room where the water had kept dripping made my chest tighten. Just imagining that sound again sent shivers down my body.

Lucien paused for a second, then spoke with surprising gentleness. "Don’t worry," he said as he walked toward the vanity. He looked into the mirror and began fixing his hair. "The tap has been repaired. You don’t have to be afraid."

I froze.

What?

How did he know about the tap? How did he know that sound was the thing haunting me?

"Th... Thank you," I murmured politely, my voice barely above a whisper.

I wanted to ask him how he knew about the dripping tap, how he figured out that it was the sound haunting me, but I stopped myself. I was already in his room, and something had clearly happened last night that I couldn’t remember.

"Sure," he replied simply, still not looking at me. "The doctor is coming to see you and take your blood samples for some tests."

"What?" I blinked, startled. My heart began to race. "Why?" My voice rose slightly as panic crept in. "I... I don’t like needles poking into my body! I hate it!" I shouted, stumbling out of bed as I tried to run to hide anywhere.

"It’s alright," Lucien said firmly as he turned around and stepped closer, closing the distance between us. He stopped right in front of me, just a few inches away.

His presence alone was enough to still me, making me freeze.

I didn’t move. He was too close, and I could feel his eyes on me. My panic slowed down just a little, but it was still there.

"I won’t let anyone hurt you," Lucien said, his voice strangely softer now. "But you need to be checked. You might not know what’s wrong with your body yet."

I quickly shook my head. The memories came rushing back of the cold rooms, needles, people holding me down, and pain I couldn’t escape.

"No doctors," I said in a shaky voice. "They would hurt me. I don’t want to go through that again."

He didn’t say anything right away. Then he stepped back, giving me space.

"Alright," he said. "We’ll talk to the doctor first. No needles unless you say yes. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?"

I looked down and noticed I was still holding his shirt without meaning to.

"I’ll try," I whispered.

"Good," he said. "Now go get ready. I’ll ask someone to bring you clothes. We’ll talk after that."

I nodded and slowly walked out of his room. My legs were weak, but I managed to stay steady. The hallway was too quiet. Every step I took echoed in my ears, making my chest tighten again.

When I reached the room I had been using, I stopped at the door and hesitated.

The sound of dripping water wasn’t there anymore. It was quiet.

I opened the door carefully and stepped inside. The lights were still on. Everything looked the same... but felt different. It felt like the room had seen something I didn’t remember.

A maid was already there, placing fresh clothes on the bed.

"Young Miss, let me know if you need help," she said quietly, then left.

I stared at the clothes for a long time before finally picking them up and going to change. I didn’t want to stay in this room for long.

As I buttoned the shirt with trembling fingers, I kept glancing at the bathroom door.

There was no sound. No dripping. But the fear still lingered, stuck deep in my chest like it was part of me.

After changing, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

I had a lot to take care of at my school and had a score to settle with Melissa. She had been doing too many malicious things behind my back.

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