After half an hour of emergency treatment, Leslie slowly came to.

The first thing she saw was Travis. She couldn't help it—disappointment came first, acceptance last.

'Of course, Denver wouldn't care enough to stay,' she thought in resignation.

"Thanks, Travis," Leslie said quietly.

"Such a hassle," Travis hissed, brushing off his pants as he stood and went to call the doctor.

The doctor gave her a quick check and said, "She's fine now. Just watch her diet and keep anti-allergy meds at home."

But Travis's mind was elsewhere—probably on Kiana. He pulled Leslie up without much thought and started striding toward the parking lot.

"Something's going on at home. Can you walk faster?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

Still shaky from waking up, Leslie stumbled. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground, scraping her knees.

Travis froze, his patience snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin. "Leslie, why do you always have to be so much trouble?"

Leslie's chest tightened, her nose stung, but she forced the tears back.

'Is this really the same boy I used to know?' she wondered. 'The same kid who would get worried over a tiny scratch on my heel and insist on carrying me on his back?'

She pressed her palms to her knees and pushed herself up. Her knees throbbed, but the pain wasn't what hurt most. She knew she'd lost to Kiana—but she still didn't understand why.

"Travis," she said, her voice trembling, "can you just tell me why? Why does everyone side with Kiana? Why do you hate me so much?"

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Travis shot her a cold glance.

"Kiana grew up with us at the same orphanage.

We got separated because of an accident, and my brother spent sixteen years looking for her.

If it wasn't for you, Kiana would've married my brother! She could've been my sister-in-law soon!

We could've had a happy life—perfect, really.

But you? You ruined all of it!"

His words hit like a hammer, each one heavier than the last. He punched a nearby tree, his frustration boiling over, not even noticing how hard Leslie flinched.

"So that's how it is." Her voice cracked. "I get it now."

She forced herself to stand straighter. "You can go. I just… want to walk by myself for a while."

He didn't hesitate. Without another word, he climbed into Denver's car, hit the gas, and left Leslie standing there.

The streets that night were quiet and empty.

Leslie wandered with no destination, Travis's words circling her mind like a broken record.

'Orphanage… like family… separated…'

Flashes of unfamiliar memories hit her out of nowhere. Images she didn't recognize flickered in and out.

Her head pounded. She grabbed onto a lamppost, her breaths coming faster and faster.

'Happily ever after. Never leaving each other.'

In her head, she saw images of three children, pinky-promising under a tree.

'Forever,' they said. 'No matter what.'

Leslie blinked hard, trying to hold onto the memory, but the blurry images of the children vanished.

Even the light from the streetlamps seemed to fade away.

Everything went dark as Leslie collapsed by the roadside.

Then she dreamed—strange yet surreal.

She was six years old, following a cute boy up a hill.

He was laughing, his voice clear and full of excitement. "Kiana, look! I found an emerald!"

'Kiana? Is he talking to me?' Leslie thought.

The boy sat down on the ground, legs crossed, and started polishing the green stone he held.

He worked for what felt like forever until the emerald turned into a smooth pendant, shaped like a lock. He threaded a red string through it and slipped it over her neck—or was it Kiana's?

The next morning, Kiana came to visit Leslie in the hospital.

As soon as she saw Leslie lying on the bed, unconscious, Kiana broke down in tears.

Denver was by her side, his voice gentle. "Shhh. She's fine now. Just tired and sleeping."

He stroked her hair softly, but as his fingers brushed past a red string around Kiana's neck, something slipped out—an emerald pendant, smooth and polished.

A small green emerald pendant shaped like a lock.

Denver's expression softened the moment he saw it. "You still wear this little thing?"

Kiana blushed and offered a sheepish smile. "Anything my brother gives me, no matter how much it costs, I treasure it."

Denver paused, his brows furrowing slightly. "But this wasn't something I bought. Don't you remember?"

Kiana's gaze darted away. "Of course, I remember… How could I forget?"

She changed the subject quickly. "By the way, did the doctor say when my Leslie can leave the hospital?"

But the sudden shift in topic only made Denver suspicious.

"Kiana," he asked, going back to the subject, "do you remember how you got this pendant?"

Kiana hesitated, her voice faltering as she came up with a vague response. "Well… one day, you gave it to me as a gift."

Denver's sharp eyes softened into an amused curve. "It was for your birthday, wasn't it?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes, yes! My birthday!"

Denver lowered his head, hiding the sadness in his eyes. 'Looks like she doesn't remember after all,' he thought to himself.

That day wasn't anything special. He had just found a beautiful emerald stone and made it into a pendant for the girl he wanted to protect forever.

After getting home, Kiana locked herself in her bedroom. She pulled out an old, yellowish journal from a locked drawer. Flipping through page after page, she searched.

But there was nothing—no mention of the emerald pendant anywhere.

Feeling frustrated, she slammed the journal shut, yanked the pendant off her neck, and locked both away in the deepest corner of the drawer.

Meanwhile, Leslie stayed in the hospital for a week. With the wedding just days away, she was finally discharged.

The nurse handed her the bill. "Is anyone here to help you with this?"

Leslie smiled faintly. "No, just me."

The nurse looked at her sympathetically. "You'll need to go to the billing counter, pay, and then come back for your discharge papers. It might take a while—are you sure you can handle it on your own?"

"I'll be fine," Leslie replied, slightly nodding. 'What else can I do anyway? Who else can I rely on but myself?'

Just a few minutes ago, she saw Kiana's latest post on Instagram.

Denver, Travis, and Kiana had driven to the world's largest Disneyland to make Kiana's childhood dream come true.

The three of them looked happy, their smiles warm and bright. The caption even said [Childhood regrets vanish when you meet your prince and knight.]

'Of course,' Leslie sneered bitterly in her head. 'Kiana's the princess. Denver's her prince. Travis's her knight.'

And Leslie? She was just the background character, the one who didn't matter, existing solely to highlight the love story of the prince and princess.

She completed her discharge process and took a cab back to the villa by herself.

The cheap wedding gown she had ordered online had arrived. She opened the box and found it wrinkled and plain, nothing like the expensive diamond-studded gown she had once tried on.

But Leslie just smiled. "It's fine."

'Just like me—ordinary and simple,' she thought. 'No point in pretending to be something I'm not.'

She walked upstairs but then noticed something odd. Kiana's bedroom door was open.

Leslie wasn't the type to snoop. She didn't care about Kiana's life or her secrets.

But Leslie couldn't help but notice a familiar bottle of pills on the floor in the corner of the room.

Without thinking, she stepped inside the room and bent down to pick the medicine bottle up.

'Wait… Isn't this my allergy medicine?!' she realized.

"It's really her… Kiana!"

Leslie yanked open the drawer beside her. She froze in shock. It was full of items stolen from her room—perfume, jewelry, makeup… No wonder her belongings had been disappearing lately.

Her eyes landed on the bottom drawer, the only one locked.

What could be hidden in there?

She grabbed a piece of wire and carefully worked at the lock.

With a click, the drawer opened.

Inside, there were only three items—a diary, a padlock-shaped pendant, and a faded group photo.

The words written above the photo read: [Angel Welfare Home, 2008]

For some reason, Leslie's heart started racing.

She scanned the photo, looking at the young, innocent faces one by one.

Then she saw him—Denver.

Next, she saw Travis.

And finally, she saw… herself!

It was late at night.

In a quiet corner of the massive villa, Leslie sat clutching the diary, tears streaming down her face.

She had always been sharp—reading when she was three, writing when she was four, and her memory was sharper than most children of her age.

But after a car accident when she was seven, she couldn't remember anything before that.

Now, as she flipped through the diary, those lost memories came rushing back.

So this was her childhood.

She wasn't cursed or destined to be alone. She had once been loved—deeply, unconditionally.

She was the "Sister Kiana" Travis had spoken of!

She was the girl Denver had spent 16 years searching for!

When she was six, a wealthy man came to the welfare home.

He immediately took a liking to Kiana's natural beauty and wanted to adopt her as his daughter.

Fourteen-year-old Denver didn't trust the man and decided to escape, taking six-year-old Kiana and four-year-old Travis with him.

But during their escape, they got separated.

And that separation lasted more than 10 years.

Kiana grew up as Leslie, unknowingly crossing paths with Denver again.

The moment he saw her, Denver recognized her. But she insisted her name was Leslie, not Kiana.

Still, Denver kept her by his side and even decided to propose to her.

But fate had other plans.

Just as the wedding date was set, 'Kiana' came into the picture.

Leslie stared at the night sky, her heart full of questions.

"Who is this Kiana taking my place?"

"And who does Denver truly love?"

The stars twinkled back at her as if mocking her confusion.

Her mind spun with countless thoughts, but one image stayed: Kiana wrapping her arms around Denver's neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.

And Denver… didn't push her away.

'No. He didn't push her away,' Leslie recounted. 'Isn't that enough of an answer?'

She slowly wiped her tear-streaked face.

The wedding was in three days.

It was time for her final move.

The next day, Denver, Travis, and Kiana returned, dragging four oversized suitcases, clearly loaded with things they'd brought back.

Denver pulled Leslie into his arms, his tone warm and apologetic.

"My love, I'm so sorry I've been neglecting you. But I arranged for nurses to take care of you while I was gone. Did they do a good job?"

Leslie's gaze shifted to Kiana. "Nurses? Where are they?"

Of course, Kiana had secretly sent them away, and she quickly changed the subject.

"Leslie, I bought so many souvenirs for you. Let me show you!"

Leslie smirked, watching as Kiana opened her suitcase.

One by one, Kiana pulled out limited-edition shoes, bags, and jewelry, laying them across the floor. The room quickly filled with her spoils.