Chapter 2: "I Already Said Yes"
Ilone's POV
"Got it, Grandpa. I understand. I'll bring her back — don't worry."
The voice was low and unhurried, with a warmth that cut through the fog still clouding my head. I opened my eyes slowly, and the first thing I saw was the face of the man who had just ended the call — looking directly at me.
He was exceptionally tall, broad-framed in a way that commanded the space around him without effort. A loose black button-down shirt draped over his shoulders, though it couldn't conceal the clean, defined lines beneath — the easy slope of muscle at his shoulders, the clear shape of his biceps. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, exposing thick, capable forearms.
He walked to my hospital bed and sat down.
"Hello, Ms. Thorne. My name is Kyle Wolfram Voss — Wolfram Voss's grandson."
"Hello, Mr. Voss." I hesitated. "Was it... was it you who carried me just now?"
"It was an emergency situation. If I overstepped, I sincerely apologize."
"No, it's not that, I just —"
"May I ask," he said, "why Ms. Thorne would rather risk falling and injuring herself than reach out to the person standing right in front of her?"
"I... I'm too heavy. I was afraid I'd hurt you — that carrying me might strain something. Are you all right?"
"Ms. Thorne, I think that kind of thinking is actually the greater offense. If a man can't carry a woman, then that man is simply too weak — that's his problem, not yours."
I looked at this man — solid, unhurried, radiating a quiet physical certainty — and without thinking, I pulled the blanket up a little higher.
He must have noticed my nervousness, because he smiled at me then — gently, without pressure.
"Please don't be tense. My grandfather and your grandparents were close friends when they were young. A few days ago, Grandpa received a call from your grandmother — but I was overseas at the time, and I only just got back today."
He paused for a moment.
"I'm sorry I'm late."
Something about those four words — I'm sorry I'm late — broke something open in me that I hadn't known was held shut. Of all the things I had most needed to hear, I never imagined they would come from a stranger.
I pressed my lips together and tried to keep my voice level. "Thank you for making the trip. My grandmother — she would have been so happy to see the family of her old friend here. Really. Thank you."
And then I couldn't hold it anymore. I broke down completely.
The man beside me said nothing. He didn't move away, didn't offer empty words. He simply sat there, quietly, and let me cry.
A long while passed. When I had finally steadied myself, he spoke again.
"Ms. Thorne, there's a video I think you need to see. It's one of the reasons I came."
He took out his phone, opened a file, and placed it in my hands.
My grandmother's face appeared on the screen, and the tears I had only just managed to stop came flooding back to my eyes. I blinked hard, desperate to see her clearly.
She was wearing the dark burgundy sweater she had always loved. Her complexion was pale, and I could see the effort it took for her to hold herself upright — but she was smiling at the camera with the same warmth she had always given me.
"Ilone," she said, "by the time you're watching this, I'll already be gone."
"I hope you won't be too sad. Your brilliant life is only just beginning."
"Ilone, don't let your appearance make you feel small. The people who have mocked you — they were blinded by the surface of things. They never saw what lives inside you: the mountains, the rivers, the stars. That is what truly shines. That is the real you."
A tear dropped onto the screen. I wiped it away quickly with the back of my hand, terrified of losing a single frame of her face.
"I believe that one day you will step onto a runway and show the world a beauty that is entirely, unmistakably your own."
"I have to go now, but it's you I can't stop worrying about. So I've placed my most precious thing in the care of the person I trust most — our dear old friend, Wolfram Voss."
"You met him when you were little, you know. That old troublemaker actually said he wanted you for his granddaughter-in-law someday."
"Ilone, don't be sad. When you smell vanilla drifting from the kitchen — that scent I always loved — or when you put on one of the dresses I made for you, that will be me. I'll be right there beside you."
"I'll live on in every beautiful memory we made together. Carry my love with you, and know that I'll be walking alongside you every step of the way."
"So please, my Ilone — keep laughing. Go live your wonderful, brilliant life."
"I love you. Always."
The image held on her smile. I pressed the phone against my chest and held it there, the way I would have held her.
"Ms. Thorne." Kyle's voice was quiet. "I think you understand what your grandmother meant. My grandfather sent me here for two reasons: first, to help take care of everything for your grandmother's funeral. And second, to bring you home — to the Voss family."
I looked into his dark eyes and found I had nothing to say.
"You don't need to give me an answer right away. I'll be staying for a few days, so take all the time you need. For now, you have mild malnutrition and low blood sugar — what you need most is rest."
"I'm fine now. I want to go to the funeral home."
I reached over to pull the IV line from the back of my hand, and his large hand came down over mine before I could.
"You can go," he said. "Finish the drip first. You're too weak right now."
I pulled back lightly, but his hand held firm around my wrist. I gave up.
"All right," I said, stumbling a little over the words. "Th-thank you."
The funeral home was as empty as it had been every time before. But with someone beside me, the cold somehow felt less absolute.
Was Grandmother asking me to marry him? The thought turned over and over without settling. This is absurd — we're strangers, we only just met. How could we possibly get married just like that? But Grandmother had said — she had specifically said —
My phone screen lit up. Mom blinked steadily across it. I hesitated for a moment, then answered.
"Ilone, where are your manners? How dare you hang up on me — I've been calling all day and you haven't picked up once. You —"
"Mom." I cut her off flatly. "Are you coming back? Grandmother's burial is tomorrow."
Two seconds of silence.
"I — well — this is the first I'm hearing about how serious things were. If we'd known sooner —"
"I called and told you. There was still time."
"And whose fault is that? You've told so many lies before — how are we supposed to know when to believe you?"
"How did I end up with a daughter like you — fat, ugly, and a liar on top of it all. Were you switched at the hospital? That's the only explanation."
"Are you coming to the burial or not?"
"You've turned into exactly the kind of graceless, ill-mannered girl everyone always said you were. To think I spent all that money keeping you alive when you were born premature — I should have saved myself the trouble. If I'd known you'd turn out like this, I never would have bothered."
"Are you coming or not?"
"It's not like you told us properly in the first place. Fine — we'll be back the day after tomorrow at the earliest. Honestly, raising you has been less rewarding than raising a dog. At least a dog doesn't talk back like this."
"Understood," I said, and ended the call cleanly.
The screen lit up again. Then again. Each time it went quiet, it started over.
A hand reached past me from my right — long-fingered, unhurried — and lifted the phone from my grip.
"Hello. This is Kyle Wolfram Voss. Ilone is paying her respects right now and isn't available to take calls. If there's something you need to say, you're welcome to tell her in person when you arrive."
He didn't wait for a response before he hung up.
"Thank you, Mr. Voss."
"Go get some rest," he said. "You need it."
I turned back to my grandmother's photograph on the headstone — her face patient, kind, unchanged — and shook my head.
"It's all right. I want to stay with her a little longer."
The next morning, I was pulled awake by a ringtone.
As I sat up, something slid from my shoulders — a men's tailored jacket, fine dark wool. I recognized it immediately as the one Kyle had been wearing the day before.
I answered the call.
My mother's voice came through before I could speak. "Ilone, I am absolutely not giving my blessing to this. That engagement — the Voss family — that belongs to Ophelia, do you understand me? Take a good look at yourself. What makes you think you have any business walking through their front door? This was always meant for your sister. If you try to steal this from her, I will consider you no daughter of mine."
I felt the warmth drain out of my fingertips, spreading inward, until something at the very center of me went cold and hard and still.
I heard my own voice come out flat and even. "Well, that's unfortunate, Mom. Because I've already said yes."
The screaming started immediately — my mother's voice splintering into something high and ragged — while underneath it, I could hear Ophelia's soft, measured murmur weaving through, gentle and deliberate.
But I felt nothing. Not anger. Not disappointment. Not even the jealousy that had lived in me for so long I had mistaken it for a fixed part of who I was. It was all simply gone — as if it had quietly burned itself out while I wasn't looking.
Then, very close, I heard a sound.
A low, quiet laugh.
I turned sharply. Kyle was watching me, his dark eyes steady and deep, the corner of his mouth curved with something that looked unmistakably like amusement.
