Understanding dawned in Elliana’s eyes. Clifford—Maxine’s nephew. When Maxine had named Katrina as heiress, Katrina’s parents had been stripped of their right to raise her. They’d been reduced to strangers in their own daughter’s life, allowed only fleeting glimpses from afar.

And later, on Maxine’s orders, Katrina had led the attempt on Elliana’s life. The mission had failed. Katrina had been captured. Since that day, no one had dared ask what became of Katrina. Clifford and Belinda had lived each day in quiet torment, desperate for news, terrified of the truth. Now, standing before Elliana, they finally found the courage to ask—though their voices trembled with fear.

But Elliana already knew what their hearts were begging to hear. She spoke gently.

“During the assassination attempt, Katrina was injured.”

The color drained from their faces. Clifford’s breath hitched. Belinda’s fingers clutched at her skirt.

Elliana softened her expression into something reassuring, almost gentle.

“There’s no need for alarm. Her injuries were relatively minor, and she recovered fully long ago. But the trauma proved overwhelming—when she finally opened her eyes, she had lost her memory.”

Relief crashed over Clifford and Belinda like a breaking wave. Learning their daughter still lived, still breathed, surpassed anything they’d allowed themselves to hope for.

“Thank you.” They spoke as one, their voices raw with emotion.

“Thank you for showing her mercy, for letting her live!”

They had assumed Katrina was dead after her mission failed. Elliana’s revelation felt like witnessing resurrection itself.

“But she hasn’t lost every memory,” Elliana continued, her tone turning gentle as morning mist.

“Her memory remains frozen at a specific moment—right after she learned she’d been named heiress. Now, her mind exists in perpetual innocence, as carefree and unburdened as a young child discovering the world for the first time.”

The revelation that Katrina had retreated into a carefree, childlike state dropped like a bomb. In that instant, Clifford and Belinda broke down, tears spilling freely.

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To Clifford and Belinda, Katrina had always been a bright child—sharp, curious, and full of promise. Yet they knew her limits. Among the girls raised from birth to inherit the Griffiths family legacy, she was leagues behind. The idea of her being chosen as the successor was something they had never dared to dream.

Then one day, fate had seemingly smiled on them. When Maxine’s messenger delivered the shocking news of Katrina being chosen as the next family leader, they had forgotten to breathe. It had felt unreal, as if they were trapped in a pleasant dream that would fade if they opened their eyes. It had taken a long while for the reality to sink in.

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