The Daughter Returns
921 Words
Meanwhile, Elena slowly opened her eyes.
She had fallen asleep beside her mother’s hospital bed.
Her mother had been lying there sick for the past five years, ever since the stroke that had changed everything.
Last night had been terrifying.
Her mother’s condition had suddenly worsened, forcing the doctors to move her into the ICU. Elena had rushed to the hospital immediately and stayed there the entire night.
Thankfully, her mother had stabilized and was now back in her VIP recovery room.
Elena gently held her mother’s hand as she slept.
Just then, the butler approached quietly.
“It’s morning, ma’am,” he said softly. “And I suggest we leave for the manor now that she is stable.”
Elena slowly sat up.
“You also need some rest,” the butler continued. “And the chairman has asked for you.”
Elena looked up immediately.
“Did he ask about my mom?” she asked curiously.
“No, he didn’t,” the butler replied.
Elena frowned.
“Well… did he know she was unstable last night and almost lost her life?”
The butler hesitated slightly before answering.
“I would say he did,” he said calmly. “Seeing that this hospital is owned by your very own family. The same way I was called, he would have been informed as well.”
Elena’s shoulders dropped slightly.
“Oh.”
Disappointment filled her voice.
She looked at her mother lying there—weak, pale, and fragile.
Tears slowly formed in her eyes.
She leaned forward and gently kissed her mother’s forehead.
“Take me home,” she said quietly to the butler as she wiped her tears away.
An hour later, Elena arrived at the family manor with her luggage.
The massive front doors stood tall and imposing, just as she remembered.
Standing right at the entrance was her stepmother, Isabella, waiting for her—as if she already knew Elena’s exact arrival time.
Isabella opened her arms with a wide welcoming smile, ready for a hug.
But Elena walked right past her without even slowing down.
Her heels echoed across the polished floors as she marched straight toward her father’s study.
She pushed the door open.
Inside, her father sat comfortably behind his desk, calmly sipping a cup of coffee.
He looked up.
“Oh, welcome, my child,” he said casually. “And how was your trip?”
Elena’s eyes burned with frustration.
“Why?” she suddenly demanded.
Her voice echoed in the room.
“Huh? Why?”
Her father looked slightly confused.
“Why didn’t you come to pay her a visit?” Elena shouted. “Or show some concern when she almost lost her life?”
Her voice trembled with anger.
“You don’t even look like you lost a wink of sleep.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“So unbothered.”
Her father slowly placed his coffee cup down.
“You must be jetlagged,” he said calmly. “And not know what you’re talking about, dear.”
The tension in the room thickened instantly.
“You know what…” her father began, his voice rising.
“I can’t keep taking this attitude from you.”
He stood up slowly, his expression hardening.
“Three years. Three whole years you’ve been out of the country—and who has been taking care of your mother?”
He pointed to himself.
“Me.”
His voice carried both anger and pride.
“I was the one there for her. All you did was call to check up. Not once did you visit the country because of her.”
He took a step closer.
“And you try to give me this bull crap the moment you return?”
Elena stood still, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
“I won’t take it,” he continued firmly. “Or stand for it. So you had better adjust that attitude.”
There was a brief silence.
Then Elena let out a soft, bitter scoff.
“My mother?” she said, her voice filled with disappointment.
She shook her head slowly.
“You don’t even call her your wife anymore.”
Her father frowned.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Elena’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, filled with something deeper than anger—hurt.
“Never mind,” she said quietly.
“I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
She turned her back and began walking toward the door.
“Wait,” her father called out.
She paused but didn’t turn immediately.
“Hope you’d be at the party on Sunday?”
Slowly, Elena looked back at him.
There was a sadness in her eyes that words couldn’t fully express.
Then, without saying anything, she exited the study.
The door closed softly behind her.
Her father exhaled and shook his head.
“How did she become so rude?” he muttered to himself before returning to his seat.
But upstairs, as Elena walked through the quiet hallway toward her room, her face hardened.
She had only been home for a short while…
And already, it felt like nothing had changed.
Not the coldness.
Not the tension.
Not the lies hidden behind expensive walls and polished smiles.
And definitely not the loneliness.
The manor was still as beautiful as ever.
Still grand.
Still rich.
Still admired from the outside.
But beneath all that beauty…
It was still the same house that had taught her how to feel alone.
- Writer
