At Palm Crest, Elowen and Lucien had just finished dinner.
Elowen sat quietly in her wheelchair, her hands resting on her lap as she stared at the empty plates on the dining table. She still couldn't believe how much she had eaten. Lucien had kept placing food on her plate, calmly and naturally, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
She didn't even know how to tell him to stop.
For the first time in a long while, she ate without fear. Without pressure. Without someone watching her every move.
"Here," Lucien said suddenly, handing her a small paper bag.
Elowen took the bag without asking what was inside. She already knew. It was the medicine the doctor had prescribed for her earlier.
She quietly opened the bag, took out the pills, and swallowed them one after the other like they were nothing more than honey.
Lucien watched silently. When he saw she had taken everything, he stood up without saying a word. He gathered the plates and cutlery they had eaten with and carried them into the kitchen.
Elowen watched his back disappear and felt her heart calm.
The meal they had just shared was the most peaceful meal she had ever had.
Back at the Whitemere family house, dinner always felt like a battlefield. Sitting at the dining table with them was like sitting at the front line of a war. They criticized everything—how she held her spoon, how she chewed, how she breathed while eating.
They always reminded her that she should be grateful. Grateful that they allowed her to eat such "quality food." They never failed to tell her that if not for them, she would never have dreamed of eating such meals.
Those words always choked her appetite.
Many nights, she barely ate at all. Sometimes, she went to bed hungry.
Lost in those painful memories, Elowen didn't even realize Lucien had returned to the dining area.
"Why are you always lost in thought?" Lucien asked.
His voice broke through her mind like a soft bell.
He had already washed the dishes and came back to find her staring blankly ahead. He had called her name once, quietly, but her thoughts were too far away to hear him.
Elowen shook her head and smiled lightly, though she felt embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"Your mind should always be present and alert," Lucien advised calmly as he moved closer to her. He gently turned her wheelchair and began pushing her toward the living room.
As he pushed her, his brows knitted slightly.
"How do you take care of your needs?" he asked.
He had been wondering about it since she arrived. How would she manage staying with him—especially when it came to using the restroom.
"I had a caregiver back home," Elowen replied quietly.
She knew what he was worried about. It was the same worry that had been sitting heavily on her heart.
"How will you help yourself while staying here?" Lucien asked directly as he stopped and turned her wheelchair to face him.
They were now in the living room.
Lucien looked tired. He clearly needed rest, but he couldn't retire for the night without making sure everything was settled. She still needed to bathe. And what if she needed the restroom in the middle of the night?
Elowen lowered her head.
She couldn't meet his eyes.
Shame crept over her like a cold wave. She had promised herself she wouldn't be a burden, but now it seemed unavoidable. She couldn't even use the restroom without help.
She hadn't thought about this part when she begged him to let her stay. All she wanted at that time was to leave the Whitemere family.
The room fell into silence.
"I'll help you tonight," Lucien finally said after thinking for a while. "Tomorrow, I'll arrange a caregiver for you."
Elowen nodded slowly, still not lifting her head.
Instead of relief, her shame deepened. Knowing that he would help her with such private matters made her uncomfortable. She wanted to refuse, but she had no choice. She couldn't sleep without bathing.
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, then closed again.
"Say it," Lucien said when he noticed.
"I… I'm sorry," Elowen said nervously. "But I would prefer my caregiver. She has become my friend."
She felt she had no right to make requests. It was already too much that he was willing to get a caregiver for her. But Cecilia—the caregiver Adrian had found—was kind. She never looked at her with pity or disgust.
Lucien nodded.
"Okay," he agreed simply.
Elowen finally smiled in relief.
"We'll visit the mall tomorrow so you can get some things," Lucien continued. He paused briefly. "So tonight, you'll manage with what you have."
He hadn't bought her personal items because he didn't know her preferences.
"Thank you," Elowen said sincerely. "I'm grateful."
"Let's go," Lucien said gently. "You need to take your bath and rest."
As he turned her wheelchair again, he shook his head lightly, almost unnoticeably. Even he couldn't believe that he was the one doing all these things.
...
At the Whitemere Mansion.
"You're back," Mrs. Whitemere said when she saw Scarlett at the entrance.
She had been standing there for a while, pacing anxiously. Her eyes moved past Scarlett, as though she was expecting someone else to walk in too.
"Yes, Mom," Scarlett replied as she walked past her.
Her face was bitter.
The scene at the hospital kept replaying in her mind—how Adrian had rushed out the moment he heard about Elowen.
"Did you hear anything about Elowen?" Mrs. Whitemere asked, stopping her.
There had been no news since Elowen left, and worry gnawed at her heart.
"Stop asking me about that miserable girl!" Scarlett snapped loudly.
Her voice was sharp and shrill, making her mother flinch.
"I don't know why you care about her so much," Scarlett hissed.
She was already furious, and hearing Elowen's name only fueled her anger. Why were they all worried about her? What was so special about Elowen?
She was nothing but a miserable, illegitimate child.
"Because she is a daughter of this family," Mrs. Whitemere said with a tired sigh. "Your sister, Scarlett."
"She is not my sister!" Scarlett shot back immediately. "She's an illegitimate child!"
"It's better that she left," Scarlett shouted hatefully. "And I hope she never comes back!"
Though Stella mentioned seeing Elowen in the hospital, she definitely wouldn't tell her mum. If more than anything, Scarlett wanted Elowen gone forever.
She stomped into the mansion and marched upstairs.
"Stop right there, Scarlett!" Mrs. Whitemere called as she followed after her.
But Scarlett didn't stop.
"Can you let us have some peace in this house?" Mr. Whitemere said coldly from the living room.
"No, Felix," Mrs. Whitemere replied, turning to him. "Your daughter is out there, and we have no news about her."
She swallowed hard when she realized she had raised her voice.
"Did you just raise your voice at me?" Mr. Whitemere asked sharply.
His face twisted darkly, as though he might explode at any second.
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Whitemere said quickly and lowered her head.
She knew her husband well. He was proud and dominant. Talking back to him was something he hated deeply.
"Let today be the last time you ever mention Elowen in this house," Mr. Whitemere said coldly. "Since she decided to leave, she better not return. Because if she does, I'll rip her head off."
With that, he turned his attention back to the business news playing on the television.