Chapter 2 — Healing the Broken
The mansion changed overnight.
The air felt lighter. Warmer.
But for the girl, healing wasn’t that simple.
She woke in the middle of the night, heart racing, expecting to hear her stepmother’s voice—sharp, cruel, unforgiving.
Instead, there was only silence.
Gentle silence.
Her father refused to leave her side.
Meetings were canceled. Deals postponed. Empires could wait.
His daughter could not.
Doctors came. Specialists. Therapists.
But what she needed most… was something no money could buy.
Time.
Patience.
Love.
One afternoon, he found her standing in front of a mirror, still wearing the oversized clothes the staff had given her.
“Hey,” he said softly.
She turned quickly, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
“You don’t have to wear that anymore,” he said.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric. “I… I don’t know what else to wear.”
The words hit him harder than anything before.
He walked over slowly and knelt beside her.
“You can wear anything you want,” he said gently. “You can be anything you want.”
She hesitated. “Even… your daughter?”
His breath caught.
“Especially my daughter.”
Tears filled her eyes again—but this time, they weren’t from fear.
They were from hope.
That evening, he did something he hadn’t done in years.
He cooked.
Badly.
The kitchen was a disaster. The food was barely edible.
But when she laughed—really laughed for the first time—
He knew it was worth everything.
Because piece by piece—
May you like
She was coming back to life.
And he would spend the rest of his life making sure she never lost herself again.
