Rebirth Into My Second Chance

The rain had been relentless all night, and I sat vigilantly by Lydia's side. Her condition had worsened by an infected wound that had induced a fever.

My worries weren't just about her fever, though. The new maid was in the house, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that she might harm Lydia in my absence. So, I stayed, keeping a watchful eye and offering my company. During a quick moment when Lydia woke up, she brushed off my worries. "Ms. Claire, you don't have to stay here with me. I'll be fine. You should get some rest."

"It's okay. You're still running a fever," I responded, my voice filled with concern and determination.

In a way, I felt indebted to her. Lydia had looked after me when I was in a similar state, in what felt like another lifetime. Besides, in this quaint town of Elmwood Springs, we had only each other to rely on.

"Is it still raining outside? In these mountain areas, prolonged rain spells disaster for those living in the old shingle houses up the slopes. They're isolated, and the drainage is terrible." Lydia's gaze drifted toward the window, a hint of melancholy in her eyes.

I recalled my earlier outing, noticing the handful of houses tucked at the mountain's base, standing alone against the vast, uncaring backdrop of nature.

"My family and I once lived in one of those shingle houses. One year, a flood washed everything away. Then, Mrs. Hart took me in and provided us with food, shelter, education for my children, and work for my husband. To me, the Hart family gave us a second chance at life. So, no matter what Mr. Hart did, we could never hold a grudge against the Hart family."

Her words struck a chord in me, revealing why Lydia never said anything against Claude despite everything he had done.

since Ms. Goodwin left

headboard, not

undeterred, "I know he loves you. Otherwise,

love him," I confessed, my voice a whisper of my past

thoughts drifted to leaving Crestview Metropolis, pinning my hopes on Max. 'If he was as influential as the stories suggested, shouldn't he have come to my rescue by now, like

day had passed, and hope waned with

to get some rest.

Elmwood Springs,

I wished the rain could intensify for a landslide to offer me an escape route. Yet, guilt washed over me

guards, and innocent

was, spending the night in the pavilion, listening to the relentless downpour as

this rain

the reservoir's levels are too high, expecting to release floodwaters. Though we might be safe from the