Hazel's brows knitted together. "Remember what?"
The maid swallowed again as her eyes darted left, right, and over Hazel's shoulder, making Hazel grow impatient.
"Am I supposed to remember something? What is it? Stop looking around and tell me!"
She flinched. "Please, It's not safe to talk here," she said quietly.
"What do you mean not safe?"
She scanned the place restlessly once more. "Can we go somewhere private, Mrs. Avril?"
Hazel felt a chill crawl up her spine. Her instincts screamed and she took a step back.
The girl noticed immediately, and panic flickered across her face.
"Mrs. Avril, please. There's no reason to be afraid of me. I am not your enemy. I understand you're confused and you have every right to react this way. But I promise you, I'm your best shot at figuring what's going on. I know you have questions. Aren't you curious about the answers?"
Hazel's jaw tightened. She was right. She needs answers.
Everything since she woke up had been wrong, and this girl knew something.
"Where are we going?"
The maid exhaled in relief. "To the safest place here. Please, follow me."
Hazel followed the maid to a familiar yet not so familiar mansion. It was the same house she'd fled from earlier in blind panic.
She frowned as she thought of the man from earlier.
Was this a trap?!
Taking a deep breath, she shoved the thought aside. It wasn't wise to start jumping to conclusions given her current predicament. At the end of the day, she was somewhat at the girl's mercy.
The interior was breathtaking.
High ceilings draped with crystal chandeliers. The marble floors were polished to perfection, and the paintings that hung on the walls looked centuries old. Everything screamed power, legacy, and wealth that didn't need to be flaunted because it was unquestionable.
Hazel was marvelled.
The maid led her to a quiet room on the ground floor and shut the door gently behind them.
The room was elegantly furnished with velvet chairs, dark wood accents, and it had tall windows that let in filtered sunlight.
"Please, have a seat."
Hazel hesitated but eventually sat down.
She poured a glass of water and handed it to Hazel, who accepted it, but didn't drink. Her fingers simply curled around the glass.
"My name is Sophie. I've worked for the Blackmoors almost my entire life. I was assigned to be your personal maid the day you arrived." She hesitated. "Can you tell me what you remember, Mrs. Avril?"
Hazel inhaled sharply. Wasn't she supposed to be the one asking the questions?!
"I only followed you here because you claimed you had answers. Are you trying to trick me?"
Sophie's eyes widened. "N-no—I would never!"
"Then what is this? You keep asking what I remember. Why does that matter? Just tell me everything you know about me."
"O-okay. Your name is Avril Blackmoor..."
The name hit Hazel like a physical blow.
"...you're a famous model from the Roosevelt family—one of the most influential families in fashion and international business. You've worked for brands people will die to even pronounce correctly." Sophie paused, not knowing how much to reveal.
"Your father remarried years ago. Your stepmother's name is Lauren, and you have a half-sister, Holly. She visits almost everyday."
"Stop," her voice cracked. "That's ridiculous! I've never heard of the Roosevelts, and I certainly have no relationship whatsoever with them. I think you have me confused with someone else."
Sophie's brows drew together in genuine confusion.
"How can that be, Mrs. Avril? You've been in this household for over a year. There is no way everyone here would mistake you for someone else, especially your family."
Over a year?!
"I... That's not possible!"
Her head spun. How can any of this be possible?!
The last thing she remembered was dying on the highway.
Watching Hazel's reaction, Sophie's expression turned into guilt. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Avril."
Hazel: "..."
"I shouldn't have done it. I had no right to."
"What are you talking about?"
"I switched your medication."
Hazel fell into deep confusion. "What medication?"
Sophie hesitated, wringling her hands together. "Since you arrived, you've been taking a drug every night. You never allowed anyone touch them. That's how strict you were about it. But I saw the label by accident."
"I know it wasn't in my place, but my curiosity got the best of me because It wasn't registered under any official hospital or pharmacy. When I did my research, I found out it was a neurological suppressant that gradually blocked memory retention and retrieval. What scared me was discovering prolonged usage causes permanent loss of one's memory."
Hazel's mind reeled.
Why would she take something like that?! Was that why she didn't remember anything?!
Sophie fell on her knees. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Avril. I never should've switched the pills with vitamins. Believe me, I was only trying to help you! The medical forum said if the patient stops taking it early enough, there's a possibility their memories will return."
"It's been three months since and I waited every day, hoping something would change. But nothing did. I gave up... until today." Tears welled in her eyes. "Please don't fire me, Mrs. Avril. I can't lose this job. My life depends on it."
Hazel's entire body went cold. Nothing made sense.
If the drug suppressed her memories, why did she only forget certain memories like how she got here? She remembered her life before the crash.
And why was she here?!
"You don't have to act this way. I'm not in any position to do that. If it helps, I don't even know where this is."
Sophie wiped her tears that escaped her eyes with the back of her hand. Hazel's words calmed her a little.
"This is the Blackmoor's resident," she said quickly, "The Blackmoors control half of New Midnight City's economy. Politics, corporations, private security, overseas investments… there is almost nothing their name cannot influence."
Hazel frowned. "It doesn't explain why I'm here."
"You are married to Master Alastair."
"Married to... who?"
"To Master Alastair Blackmoor."
Her mind flashed back to the man in that room with the cold gaze and possessive tone.
Be a good wife.
Her stomach twisted. Was she really that man's wife?
"That's not possible. I'm engaged to—" She stopped.
Dale Blackmoor.
The image of him kissing that woman resurfaced violently and she exhaled shakily.
But something caught Hazel's attention.
Why was Dale bearing the same last name with this powerful family? And why was he here?!
"Do you know Dale Blackmoor?"
Sophie nodded slowly, wondering why she was asking about him.
"He's the third gen heir of this empire."