9#09
9
'Hold on... Isn't this my allergy medication?!' she suddenly recognized.
"It's actually her... Kiana!"
Leslie swiftly pulled open the drawer next to her. She was paralyzed with disbelief. It contained various items taken from her bedroom—fragrances, accessories, cosmetics... It explained why her possessions had been vanishing recently.
Her gaze fell upon the lowest drawer, the sole one that was secured.
What might be concealed within?
She retrieved a thin metal wire and meticulously worked on the lock.
With a soft snap, the drawer slid open.
Within, there were merely three objects—a personal journal, a lock-shaped necklace, and an old group photograph.
The inscription above the image stated: [Angel Welfare Home, 2008]
Inexplicably, Leslie's pulse quickened.
She examined the photo, observing each youthful, guileless face in turn.
Then she spotted him—Denver.
Next, she identified Travis.
And lastly, she recognized... herself!
The night was late.
In a secluded area of the expansive manor, Leslie sat clutching the journal, tears flowing down her cheeks.
She had always been intelligent—reading at three, writing at four, with a memory surpassing most children her age.
However, following a vehicular incident when she was seven, she lost all recollection of her life before that point.
Now, as she perused the journal, those missing memories came flooding back.
So this was her early life.
She wasn't cursed or fated to be alone. She had once experienced love—profound, unconditional love.
She was the "Sister Kiana" Travis had mentioned!
She was the girl Denver had spent 16 years trying to locate!
At age six, a rich man visited the welfare home.
He was immediately drawn to Kiana's natural beauty and wished to adopt her as his daughter.
Fourteen-year-old Denver distrusted the man and decided to flee, taking six-year-old Kiana and four-year-old Travis with him.
But during their escape, they became separated.
And that separation lasted over a decade.
Kiana grew up as Leslie, unknowingly encountering Denver again.
The instant he saw her, Denver recognized her. But she insisted her name was Leslie, not Kiana.
Nevertheless, Denver kept her close and even decided to propose marriage.
But destiny had other plans.
Just as the wedding date was confirmed, 'Kiana' entered the scene.
Leslie gazed at the night sky, her mind brimming with questions.
"Who is this Kiana assuming my identity?"
"And whom does Denver truly love?"
The stars glimmered above, seeming to mock her bewilderment.
Her thoughts raced, but one image persisted: Kiana embracing Denver and kissing his lips.
And Denver... didn't reject her advances.
'No. He didn't push her away,' Leslie recalled. 'Isn't that answer enough?'
She gradually dried her tear-stained face.
The wedding was in three days.
It was time for her final move.
The following day, Denver, Travis, and Kiana returned, hauling four enormous suitcases, evidently filled with items they'd brought back.
Denver embraced Leslie, his voice warm and remorseful.
"My love, I'm terribly sorry for neglecting you. But I arranged for nurses to care for you while I was away. Did they perform their duties well?"
Leslie's eyes shifted to Kiana. "Nurses? Where are they?"
Of course, Kiana had covertly dismissed them, and she swiftly changed the subject.
"Leslie, I purchased numerous souvenirs for you. Allow me to show you!"
Leslie smirked, observing as Kiana opened her suitcase.
One after another, Kiana extracted exclusive footwear, handbags, and accessories, arranging them across the floor. The room rapidly filled with her acquisitions.