“If you stop the machines, she’ll wake up,” the boy from the streets told the millionaire. No one believed him—until the truth proved louder than all of them.

Elara brightened with every conversation. Callan quickly realized her so called treatment was strange. She did not improve. She grew weaker. She spoke of the bitter liquid her stepmother insisted she take. She described the private physician, Dr. Lucian Myles, who visited weekly.

“I do not feel better,” Elara whispered to Callan one afternoon. “I feel like something is draining me.”

Callan frowned. “That is not right. Does your father know?”

She shook her head. “He believes every word Riona tells him.”

Callan tightened his grip on the bench edge. “I am going to find out what is happening. You should not be afraid to live.”

One evening he climbed the old oak that overlooked the study window. He had been ordered to stay away from the estate, yet he returned. Through the window he saw Riona and Dr. Myles speaking while sharing glasses of white wine.

Riona sighed. “She is becoming too aware. What if Gareth notices.”

Dr. Myles adjusted his sleeve. “He travels constantly. Increase the dosage. She will remain quiet enough.”

Riona tapped her nails on the table. “I need more time. The inheritance paperwork is not complete.”