Sophia's POV
That morning, a wave of nausea washed over me, a sickening lurch that had become all too familiar in the past week. It wasn't just the grief, the shock of learning about my birth parents, or the sting of seeing Donald’s happy remarriage. It was something deeper, something like a hollowness in my stomach, a profound weariness that even the opulent surroundings of my real father's mansion couldn’t alleviate. I felt… drained. Empty.
My father, bless his attentive heart, had noticed. He’d insisted I see his private doctor, Dr. Philip, a man whose calm demeanor and gentle questions were somehow more unnerving than any aggressive interrogation. I sat in his quiet office, the air smelling faintly of antiseptic and something floral, trying to articulate the physical symptoms of my
