Once the initial wave of tears finally slows down, my mother pulls back just enough to wipe the damp hair from my forehead. Her hands are still trembling.
I swallow hard, my throat is feeling dry but I manage to ask "What's going on, Mother?Why am I here in the hospital? What happened to me?"
My mother exchanges a weary, emotional look with my father before looking back at me, squeezing my hand tightly.
"You have been asleep for three days, my daughter," she explains, her voice catching in her throat. "On the first day, when you didn't wake up in the morning, we thought you were just incredibly exhausted from work. But when the afternoon passed and you still wouldn't open your eyes, we became really worried. By that evening, we called a doctor to the house."
She takes a shaky breath, smoothing down the thin hospital blanket. "The doctor examined you and told us that physically, you were just deeply, deeply sleeping. But he warned us that you couldn't go without nourishment, which is why he hooked you up to those saline bottles right there in your room to take care of everything. Before he left, he told us that if you didn't wake up soon, we had to call him back immediately."
My father steps closer, placing a comforting hand on my mother's shoulder as she continues.
"During that time, your boss from the office kept calling your phone," she says. "We finally answered and explained your situation—that you were completely unresponsive. He was actually very understanding and told us that you should take a total rest for a few days, because you had been overworking yourself so hard."
She pauses, the painful memory of the last hours clouding her eyes. "But then, the second day passed and you still did not wake up. Panic completely set in. We called the doctor back to the house again, and by the evening, he suggested that a standard home treatment wasn't enough anymore. He told us we should take you to the hospital the next day... which is today. We brought you here just this morning, Sara."
I lean back against the stiff hospital pillows, my mind completely reeling as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
Three days. Three whole days I was gone to them. While I was busy surviving in that world, dodging a toxic aristocratic family, and uncovering a massive political conspiracy as Elanore Valerius, my body was just laying perfectly still in a deep, mysterious coma right here in the modern world. To my parents and my boss, it looked like extreme corporate burnout. But I know the terrifying truth—my soul was miles away, fighting for its life.
my brain working at lightning speed to calculate the data my mother just handed me.
Five or six days, I calculate mentally. I spent nearly a week surviving inside Elanore's world, but here in my real life, only three days have passed. That means time there moves twice as fast. If I spend a whole day in that magical empire, it only costs me half a day or a single night here in my modern world. It's a perfect mathematical logic, a clear ratio of the two timelines. But the moment the math clicks, a fierce wave of finality washes over me.
"I don't care about the logic anymore," I whisper under my breath, clutching the thin hospital blanket tightly. "Because I am never going back. I am completely done with that world."
A shudder runs down my spine just thinking about it. I never want to face any of them again. I don't want to look at the Duke's calculated, freezing expressions, and I don't want to see Orlando's hypocritical face ever again. They are absolutely horrible, wearing masks of fake devotion while treating a dying girl like a stain on their precious corporate reputation. Why should I risk my life fighting and playing political chess for a family that doesn't care for me?
I look up at my mother, whose eyes are still red from crying, and my father, who hasn't left my side. The contrast is blinding. This is where I belong. I will stay right here, wrapped in the genuine, unconditional warmth of my real family, safe from the poison and the daggers of the Valerius estate.
Let Elanore's world handle its own messes. I don't care about Elanore's messy life.
The heavy hospital door clicks open, breaking the quiet of the room as the doctor walks back in, checking a clipboard before looking at my parents with a kind but firm expression.
"I need to ask you both to step outside and take your leave for a bit," the doctor says gently. "The patient is still incredibly weak and needs to get some proper rest."
My mother squeezes my hand one last time, giving me a reassuring smile. "We're going to step out, Sara. The doctor already ran a few tests on you earlier, and the results should be coming in very soon. Your father and I need to discuss them with him outside, so just wait patiently for us, okay?"
A sudden spike of modern anxiety hits me. Test results are one thing, but absence notices are another. "But Mother," I say quickly, trying to sit up a bit more. "I need my phone. I have to call my boss right away. I need to formally tell him about my situation and arrange my official medical leave."
My mother lets out a soft laugh, gently pressing her hand against my shoulder to keep me relaxed. "Oh, don't you worry about that at all, daughter. You need to just focus on resting right now. Your boss told us that You've been working non-stop for three whole years without taking a single proper break. Think of this as your time to finally relax. Take your time, enjoy your vacation, and get some real, deep rest. Don't worry about the office at all."
Hearing her words, a heavy wave of relief washes over me. Three years of relentless corporate grinding, and I finally have permission to just stop.
My parents quietly exit the room, closing the door behind them and leaving me in the peaceful, sterile silence. I try to use this quiet moment to think through everything—to process the math of the two timelines, the terrifying coldness of the Duke, and the mysterious genderless voice. But the moment I try to focus, my thoughts begin to scatter like dust in the wind.
A profound, inescapable exhaustion clamps down on my eyelids. Why am I so tired? I wonder, my mind drifting into a fog. I'm back in the modern world now... I shouldn't feel this drained. Then, I look over at the IV drip slowly trickling into the back of my hand. Right. It must be the hospital medication. They probably pumped me full of heavy sedatives to help me recover.
Accepting the heavy, chemically induced peace, I let go of my stubborn corporate worries. I sink deep into the crisp white hospital pillows, my eyes fluttering shut as I drift straight back into a heavy, deep sleep.
The heavy hospital door clicks shut, leaving me alone in the quiet, sterile room. As the medicine begins to take effect, a deep, heavy drowsiness weighs down my eyelids. I sink into the pillows, letting my body relax completely for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
Looking at the slow, rhythmic drip of the IV, my thoughts begin to wander backward, drifting into memories I haven't had time to look at in years.
This deep, heavy exhaustion... it isn't just from my current corporate job. As I lay here, I start remembering exactly how long I've been running on empty. My mind goes back to when I was just a seventeen-year-old girl. Back then, our family was suffocating under the weight of poverty. My father didn't have a good job, and the financial strain was something I simply could not stand to watch. I couldn't bear to see my family suffer or see my brother's dreams shattered before they even started.
So, from the age of seventeen, I threw myself into the fire.
I started doing back-to-back part-time jobs, working tirelessly day and night. Even after completing my degree and graduating, I never allowed myself a single moment to breathe. I transitioned straight into demanding full-time roles, piling work on top of work. I hid my own fatigue, ignored the aches, and worked sleeplessly to support my family's financial condition and fund my brother's career. My tireless grinding worked—I made us financially stable and built a secure life for the people I love. But I did it by completely running myself ragged without a single day of proper rest.
A soft, weary sigh escapes my lips as the hospital mattress cushions my aching limbs.
Maybe Mom is right, I think, my mind fogging up beautifully from the medication. I have been working non-stop since I was seventeen. I am just so, so tired.
For now, I should just take a little rest for my body, I tell myself, letting my tense shoulders drop completely. I need to enjoy this forced vacation. Otherwise, if I keep pushing myself like this... I am going to completely break.
With that final thought, I let go of the reins. I surrender to the heavy, medicated peace, closing my eyes and drifting straight into a deep, inescapable slumber.
Sara has closed her eyes with a smile, fully believing that Elanore's world was just a crazy dream and that she will return to her normal, everyday job tomorrow. She thinks the storm has passed, but the real nightmare is just beginning on the other side of the glass.
How will Sara handle the brutal reality when her dream of a normal life is completely shattered? What shocking truth is waiting inside that final test result? The peaceful illusion is about to break and another strom is waiting for her. What will Sara do the next?
Stay with us to find the answers!