Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft golden hues across the room. Lia’s eyelids fluttered open, her body feeling strangely heavy.

For a brief, fleeting moment, she thought everything that had happened last night had been nothing more than a nightmare.

The storm. The darkness. Her panic.

Lucian.

But then—

A sharp presence sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned her head—only to lock eyes with him.

Lucian sat across the room, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering and cold.

Her breath hitched.

Lia sat up abruptly, her mind racing.

"I—" She stammered, struggling to form words, her heart hammering against her ribs. "I’m sorry about yesterday."

Lucian remained silent.

"I didn’t mean to—" Lia continued, her words fumbling, but Lucian cut her off.

"Why are you apologizing?" His voice was calm, yet laced with something unreadable.

Lia blinked in confusion.

Lucian stood from his chair and walked toward her.

Each step felt deliberate.

Unnerving.

Lia instinctively scooted back as he neared, her body tense.

But before she could react, Lucian leaned down, bracing a hand against the bed frame—effectively caging her in.

His face was mere inches from hers.

Lia’s breath hitched.

"Wh… What are you doing?" she stuttered, barely able to maintain eye contact.

Lucian studied her, his gaze sharp.

"You did nothing wrong," he said, voice low. "Except for hiding the fact that you never lost your memory."

The world tilted.

Lia’s eyes widened in sheer panic.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach as her breath became unsteady.

"No… No, no, no."

How? How did he know?

Lucian pulled back slightly, allowing her a fraction of space—but the weight of his words crushed her.

"How did you know?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian straightened, stepping away. His back now faced her as he walked toward the balcony.

"You told on yourself," he said simply.

Lia stiffened.

Last night… when I was scared…

Her chest clenched as realization dawned on her.

In her panic, in her desperation—she had called herself April.

Lia clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

She had spent two months carefully constructing a new identity.

Two months fooling everyone.

And yet—she had ruined everything in a single night.

Her throat tightened.

Lucian turned around, his expression unreadable.

"My mother cares for you like her own daughter," he said, his tone sharper now. "But you…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Lia swallowed.

Guilt crashed into her, suffocating her.

"Even I’m ashamed of myself," she admitted, her voice raw.

She looked up at him, sincerity clear in her tear-filled eyes.

"I know I’m a fraud. I know lying to those who gave me a second chance makes me a terrible person," she continued.

She buried her face in her hands, her voice breaking.

"But I didn’t have a choice, Lucian."

Her body trembled as she exhaled shakily.

"When I woke up… I realized how much had happened. And I didn’t know what to do."

Her nails pressed against her skin, as if trying to keep herself together.

"I was scared—terrified of going back to the people who hurt me. I had nowhere else to go."

Lucian remained silent, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Lia bit her lower lip, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"So, yes," she whispered. "I lied to everyone."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Lucian's lips pressed into a thin line.

"You should’ve just told the truth."

Lia let out a bitter laugh, her voice barely steady.

"And what would’ve happened then?" she asked, her eyes glistening. "You would’ve thrown me out immediately. Admit it, Lucian—you never wanted me here."

Lucian didn’t respond.

Because she was right.

Lia inhaled deeply, wiping away the tears staining her cheeks.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "For disturbing your lives."

Her vision blurred as fresh tears welled up, spilling over.

Lucian exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair.

"Mom will be here by two," he stated coolly. "You should leave before then."

Lia froze.

Her stomach twisted painfully at his words.

The finality in his tone.

Lucian turned on his heel, walking toward the door without another glance in her direction.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone.

For the first time in two months, Lia—April Winter—felt truly alone again.

She inhaled shakily, pressing a hand against her chest.

No more pretending.

No more lying.

At least now… she wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

She exhaled.

She would leave before Georgia returned.

And she would never look back.