Trembling, I sat up, panic rising. This was no hospital. The door creaked open, and two women entered, their robes patterned like the forest outside. Their eyes brimmed with disbelief.
“She’s awake,” one whispered.
“Our princess is awake,” the other said, clutching her chest.
“Princess?” I rasped. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
Before they could answer, heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor. A man and woman burst in, their commanding presence shifting the air. Relief and sorrow mingled in their expressions.
“My daughter,” the man said, kneeling beside me. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. “You’re finally home.”
“Home?” I shook my head, backing away. “No. This isn’t real. I don’t know you.”
The woman stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. Her hair shimmered in the light as she reached for me. “My daughter, it’s us. Your parents. We’ve searched for you for so long.”
The word "parents" hit me like a blow. My parents were dead. I’d buried them years ago. “No,” I stammered. “This is a sick joke. My parents—my real parents—are gone.”