Lost and Found Again

Selena's POV

Until a familiar scent—citrus notes mingling with sunshine and sweet orange—assaulted my nostrils.

Accompanying it came a voice, hesitant yet filled with concern, achingly familiar. "Selena?"

I turned around stiffly.

The bustling, glamorous crowd in my field of vision instantly blurred into background noise, leaving only the girl standing before me so vivid she made me want to weep.

She wore a dazzling sapphire blue silk gown, her thick red hair cascading like flames. That was Beatrice Dubois.

In my previous life, she had been my best—my only—true friend. It was she who, when I'd been rendered mentally foggy by the "sleep candies" Vera had fed me, noticed something was wrong and shook my shoulders desperately, her eyes red as she warned me: "Selena, snap out of it! Stay away from that stepmother and stepsister of yours! They're not good people at all!"

But back then, I had already been drugged and deceived by Vera's sugar-coated bullets day after day until my mind was lost. Not only did I refuse to listen to her, I thought she was jealous that I'd gained a "happy new family." I coldly pushed her away. It wasn't until I was locked in Mental Health Facility, in that hell of burning flames, that I finally understood in despair—I had personally severed the last rope that could have saved me.

Now, she appeared before me without warning, catching me completely off guard.

"Good God, what happened to your hand?" Beatrice immediately spotted the glaring red mark on my wrist, her originally bright face instantly igniting with fury as she stepped forward. "Did Richard lose his temper again? Or is it that hypocritical mother-daughter pair scheming behind your back..."

Before she could finish, the fortress I'd painstakingly built to disguise myself, to appear strong, came crashing down the moment I met those amber eyes filled with pure, unadulterated concern.

So this was it—all strength was merely because I hadn't yet encountered the person before whom I could shed my armor without restraint.

Before Beatrice could react, I had already stepped forward quickly and thrown my arms around her.

Damian's oversized suit jacket slid off my shoulders and fell onto the carpet, but I no longer cared. My hands desperately, almost greedily, tightened around Beatrice's waist as I buried my face deep into the curve of her neck.

"Hey, hey... Selena?" Beatrice stumbled from my sudden embrace, her body instinctively stiffening. After all, just days ago, I had spoken coldly to her because of Vera's manipulations.

But when she felt me pressing all my weight against her, when she felt my body trembling uncontrollably in her arms, that moment of hesitation evaporated instantly.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt badly?"

Beatrice didn't push me away. Instead, she immediately raised her arms and held me tightly, firmly. One hand covered the back of my head, stroking my hair gently yet steadily, over and over, as if comforting a frightened child.

"Shhh... It's okay, Selena. I'm here. I'm right here."

That soft "I'm right here" was like a key that completely opened the floodgates I'd been suppressing for so long.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, unwilling to make any sound of weakness in this hypocritical ballroom, but large, scalding tears burst forth like a broken dam, quickly soaking Beatrice's expensive silk gown.

In this silent weeping, I released the terror of being burned alive in the inferno of my past life; I released the despair of being abandoned like refuse by my own father; I released the suffocating feeling of walking on thin ice, calculating every step during these few short hours since my rebirth.

And of course, most importantly, there was the overwhelming relief and joy of seeing Beatrice again, of regaining what I'd lost.

"I'm sorry... Bea, I'm sorry..." I mumbled into her neck, my voice muffled and choked, desperately trying to tell her the apology I'd never gotten to say in my previous life. "I missed you so much, I really missed you so much..."

"You silly girl, what nonsense are you babbling about?" Beatrice tightened her arms with heartache, her chin resting on the top of my head. "Didn't we just see each other last week? What kind of grievance could make you cry like this? What did those bastards do to push you this far..."

She didn't press for more answers, simply serving silently as my most solid harbor, letting me burn away all my weakness and pain in this embrace.

I don't know how much time passed before the emotion threatening to tear me apart finally emptied itself through my tears. I took a deep breath, greedily inhaling the citrus scent from her body, before slowly pulling away from her arms.

"Sorry, I got you all dirty." I looked at the obvious tear stain on her shoulder with reddened eyes, somewhat embarrassed.

But Beatrice rolled her eyes dismissively. She reached up with both hands to cup my face, using her thumbs to roughly yet tenderly wipe away the tears on my cheeks. "Oh please, compared to a dress, seeing you looking like you were about to shatter made me way more pissed off. If it weren't for today being your mother's memorial, I would've marched right up and smashed Richard's wine glass!"

Seeing her fierce, vivid expression as she defended me, I finally couldn't help but laugh through my tears.

"But," Beatrice changed her tone, her amber eyes lighting up with amazed brilliance as she squeezed my shoulders firmly, "your performance on that stage just now was absolutely incredible! Do you know I screamed for you from the audience until my voice went hoarse? That's the real Selena Windsor! That's Aunt Eleonora's true daughter! I knew it—you're not the hopeless waste they claim you are!"

Her words were like a beam of pure sunshine, dispelling even the last trace of gloom from the bottom of my heart.

"Thank you, Bea." I looked at her sincerely.

She grabbed my hand and started walking without allowing any argument. "Don't be so formal with me. Come on, I'm taking you to get some food. They just put out those black truffle cream puffs we both love."

As we passed Damian, he had already bent down to pick up the suit jacket I'd trampled underfoot and was carefully wiping away the shoe prints with his handkerchief. Our gazes met briefly in the air.

I nodded to him, conveying my gratitude.

"I look forward to our cooperation. I'll find you," I said, though not aloud—only in my mind.

Those deep gray eyes of his held none of their usual coldness, seeming to respond: "I'll be waiting."

Beatrice sensed my pause and squeezed my hand forcefully, pulling me back to reality. "Darling, who was that man just now? My God, I swear, the way he looked at you was anything but simple! Selena, are you finally giving up on that idiot Kane?"

"Don't talk nonsense. He's just the Windsor family's legal advisor," I tapped Beatrice lightly on the arm. "Tomorrow, Le Bernardin. I'm treating you to lunch. Just the two of us."

"It's a deal!" Beatrice agreed cheerfully.