Chapter 9

Eleanore POV:

The New York skyline, a glittering tapestry of steel and light, greeted me with a cold indifference that somehow felt more comforting than the suffocating warmth of Boston. The long flight, exacerbated by my still-healing injuries, had left me exhausted and disoriented. My body ached, but my spirit, oddly, felt lighter.

The car pulled up to a grand brownstone, its windows glowing with a soft, inviting light. It wasn't just a house; it was a home, alive and welcoming. The butler, Mr. Davies, helped me out of the car, practically carrying me to the front door. "Steady, Miss Eleanore," he murmured, his voice gentle.

As the door opened, a wave of warmth, both literal and metaphorical, enveloped me. Standing in the elegant foyer was an entire assembly of people. Kayson' s family. His grandmother, a formidable but kind-looking woman with silver hair pulled back in a neat bun, stood at the front. Beside her, Kayson's parents, a dignified couple, and a vibrant young girl who I assumed was his younger cousin.

"Welcome, Eleanore," Mrs. Knight said, her voice rich and melodic. Mr. Davies gently guided me forward. "These are Kayson's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Knight, and this is his cousin, Lily."

My mind, still fuzzy from pain medication and exhaustion, struggled to process the sheer number of faces, all looking at me with genuine warmth. It was more than I had anticipated. I tried to stand straighter, to offer a polite curtsy, but a sharp pain shot through my ribs.

"Oh, dear, no, no, don't you dare try to bow, child!" Mrs. Knight exclaimed, stepping forward with surprising agility. She gently pressed me back into Mr. Davies' supporting arm. "You're recovering. There's no need for formalities. Just rest." Her eyes, kind and knowing, studied me with an intensity that made me feel truly seen.

"Welcome, Eleanore," Kayson's mother said, her voice soft. "We've been so worried about you."

Lily, the young cousin, bounced forward. "Hi! I'm Lily! Kayson told me all about you. We're so excited you're finally here!" Her enthusiasm was infectious.

I managed a weak smile. "Hello, everyone," I rasped, my throat dry. "Thank you for having me."

Mrs. Knight waved a hand. "Nonsense. This is your home now, dear. Now, everyone, Eleanore is exhausted. Let's let her rest. We'll have plenty of time to get acquainted."

The family dispersed, offering warm goodnights and promises to chat tomorrow. Mr. Davies gently ushered me towards a grand staircase. "Your room is ready, Miss Eleanore."

As we reached the landing, Mrs. Knight appeared again, dismissing Mr. Davies with a soft word. She entered the spacious bedroom with me, a comforting presence. "Sit, dear," she said, gesturing to a plush armchair.

"Eleanore," she began, her voice softer now, "Do you remember coming to visit us as a little girl? You and Kayson used to play in the gardens. You painted him a picture of a dragon, do you recall?"

A faint memory stirred. A lonely little girl, visiting a grand house, a kind boy. "Yes," I whispered, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. "I remember."

"Kayson never forgot you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Even after we moved away. He always wondered about his little dragon artist." Her gaze then softened, filled with a deep sympathy. "We know about the accident, dear. And we know about... your family's recent troubles. Kayson's grandfather and yours had a bond that went beyond business. He would be appalled." She paused, her hand gently covering mine. "You are safe here, Eleanore. You are loved. Whatever burdens you carry, you don't have to carry them alone."

The unexpected kindness, the genuine understanding, shattered the walls I had meticulously built around my heart. Tears, hot and uncontrollable, streamed down my face. I hadn't cried like this in years. "They... they replaced me," I choked out, the words raw with pain. "They made me give a kidney... they pushed me down the stairs..." The floodgates opened. I told her bits and pieces, the bare minimum, enough to convey the profound betrayal.

She listened, her expression unwavering, her eyes filled with a gentle sorrow. When I finished, she simply squeezed my hand. "No more, child. No more. You are here now. You are home." She offered a soft smile. "Tomorrow, after a good night's rest, we'll go see Kayson. He's been asking for you."

My heart pounded. Kayson. The man I was sacrificing my life for. "He's... awake?" I asked, a tremor in my voice.

Mrs. Knight nodded. "He is. And he's a very perceptive young man." She stood. "Now, get some rest. Everything you could possibly need is in the dressing room."

I walked into the massive walk-in closet. Rows of designer clothes, tailored to my size. Shoes, bags, jewelry. Not hollow offerings, but thoughtful provisions. My old life had been stripped away, but this new one was being built, piece by meticulous piece.

Lying in the lavish bed, surrounded by strangers who felt more like family than my own blood, I wondered if this was a dream. A beautiful, terrifying dream from which I was bound to wake.