The heart broken doctor

The shock

Amara stepped into the grand foyer of the Johnson Mansion, the soft glow of chandeliers casting a golden light on the marble floors. The moment her foot crossed the threshold, every eye in the room turned toward her.

The butlers and maids, frozen in their tracks, stared in awe. She had always been beautiful, but now she seemed almost ethereal—tall and elegant, with her pearl-white skin that gleamed like polished marble, and her long, flowing orange hair cascading down to her waist. Her ocean-green eyes, once bright with youthful mischief, now held a depth that captivated and unsettled those around her.

There was a brief, stunned silence as the staff took in the sight of her, their smiles faltering as they exchanged nervous glances. The tension in the air was palpable, thickening with each passing second, until the silence was shattered by a cold, familiar voice.

“So you finally arrived.”

The words echoed through the hall, cutting through the room like a knife. Amara’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to see Olivia Johnson standing at the top of the grand staircase, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable. But what made Amara’s breath catch in her throat was the figure standing beside Olivia—Stefania Brown.

Stefania, her childhood nemesis, the girl who had always been a thorn in her side. Amara’s smile faltered as her eyes locked with Stefania’s, confusion and disbelief swirling within her. **What is she doing here?**

“Hello, Olivia,” Amara managed to say, forcing a smile as she tried to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping up her spine. “I’m back home.”

The words hung in the air, and Amara noticed the way the butlers and maids exchanged uneasy glances. The atmosphere had shifted, and she couldn’t quite place why. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Olivia’s lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Home?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disdain. “Huh!”

Amara blinked, taken aback by the harshness in Olivia’s tone. She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes darting between Olivia and Stefania, trying to make sense of what was happening. **Why is Olivia behaving this way?**

As Olivia descended the staircase, Stefania followed closely, her eyes never leaving Amara. There was a sharpness in Stefania’s gaze, a mix of anger and jealousy that made Amara’s skin prickle. Amara could see the nervousness in Stefania’s trembling hands as she clutched Olivia’s arm, the fear in her eyes unmistakable. **Is she afraid of me?**

Olivia stopped just inches away from Amara, her cold eyes narrowing as she looked her up and down. “This is not your home, Amara Clarke,” Olivia declared, her voice firm and unyielding.

Amara felt the words like a punch to the gut. She stood there, frozen in shock, her mind reeling. **Not my home?** The mansion, the place where she had found comfort and safety after her parents' death, now felt foreign, hostile. She looked around desperately, searching for some sign, some explanation, but all she found were the uneasy faces of the staff, who seemed just as bewildered as she was.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned back to Olivia, trying to find her voice. “What do you mean, Olivia? What’s going on?”

But Olivia’s cold gaze and Stefania’s spiteful smirk were the only responses she received. The walls of the mansion, once so welcoming, now seemed to close in around her, and Amara felt a rising sense of dread as she realized that nothing would ever be the same again.

Amara’s eyes widened as she looked at Olivia, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild drum. "I grew up here, Olivia. I’ve always considered Johnson Mansion as my home," she said, her voice trembling, trying to anchor herself to something familiar, something that made sense.

Olivia’s face remained impassive, her gaze cold and unyielding. "Now you’ve grown up," she replied, her tone void of sympathy. "So go and find your life."

Amara’s breath hitched in her throat, and she felt as though the ground beneath her feet had just crumbled away. She instinctively placed a hand over her chest, as if trying to hold her heart together, her eyes wide with confusion. This place, these people, were all she had left. How could Olivia say such a thing?

"But me and Bryan..." Amara’s voice was barely a whisper, her mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. This couldn’t be happening—Bryan loved her. They were meant to be together. Their future was supposed to be here, in this house, side by side.

Olivia cut her off with a sharp, almost cruel smile. "Meet Bryan’s fiancé, Stefania."

The word struck Amara like a lightning bolt, the shock so overwhelming it was as if she had been hit by a thousand volts of electricity. She stood there, frozen, her mind blank with disbelief. **Fiancé?** The word echoed in her mind, distorting and twisting until it barely made sense.

Stefania stepped forward, her face twisted into a smug smile. "Yes, fiancé," she confirmed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I’m pregnant with Bryan’s child."