The past that haunts

Amara Lenz had once been a girl who laughed freely, whose world was filled with warmth and love. Born into a family of intellect and kindness, she had spent her childhood in the comforting embrace of her parents—her father, Professor Daniel Lenz, and her mother, Evelyn Lenz.

Daniel Lenz had been a revered professor at the university, respected by students and faculty alike. He wasn't just an educator; he was a man of principles, someone who believed in fairness, in knowledge, in giving everyone a chance, regardless of wealth or status. His daughter had grown up with the same values, believing the world to be a place where kindness triumphed, where hard work led to success.

Evelyn, on the other hand, was an artist, a woman who found beauty in the smallest of things. She painted, played the piano, and filled their home with music and color. Amara had inherited her mother's love for music, spending hours sitting beside her as they played together, laughter echoing through their home.

For years, their family was happy, untouched by the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

Then, everything changed.

The tragedy came without warning.

Her mother's screams. The sound of shattered glass. The cold, lifeless body of her father lying motionless. The horror of that night had never left her. Her mother, in her anguish, was never the same again. The woman who had once danced in the rain with her daughter now lived in shadows, drowning in grief until, one day, she too was gone—whether by accident or design, Amara never truly knew.

She was left alone, broken and vulnerable, forced to fend for herself in a world that showed her no mercy.

She was twelve when the world abandoned her.

After her mother's passing, she was thrown out of her home. Her father's wealth, the home she had grown up in, the security she had once known—everything was stripped away from her. The people who had once pretended to care about her father turned their backs on her. Distant relatives whispered about how she was an inconvenience, a burden too heavy to carry. They didn't want her.

It was her grandmother, the only person who truly loved her, who took her in.

Her grandmother's home was a small, worn-down house in a quiet village, far from the city she had known. The first few nights, Amara would wake up crying, feeling the crushing weight of her loneliness. But her grandmother, with her gentle hands and warm voice, comforted her. She told Amara stories of her father's childhood, of how he had once been just as stubborn and strong-willed as she was. She made her believe that, despite everything, she would survive.

Life in the village was simple, but it was not easy. Amara had to help with chores, wake up before dawn to fetch water, and assist her grandmother in the small garden that provided their food. The people in the village were kind but distant, wary of the girl who had come from tragedy. She could feel their pity, their curiosity, but she chose to ignore it. She focused on the little joys—watching the sunrise over the fields, playing the piano in the dusty old church when no one was around, and sitting beside her grandmother as she told stories of the past.

But even this fragile happiness did not last.

Two years later, her grandmother passed away in her sleep. The loss shattered Amara all over again. She was left alone once more, with no one to turn to. She stood by the grave, silent and numb, as the villagers murmured their condolences. But she knew the truth—she had no place there anymore.

With no other choice, she packed what little she had and left for the city, determined to survive on her own.

She found a tiny, one-room apartment in a run-down part of town. The walls were cracked, the ceiling leaked when it rained, and the air smelled of dampness and dust. But it was hers. For the first time, she had a place she could call her own.

She worked any job she could find—washing dishes in a café, cleaning hotel rooms, and even playing piano at a rundown bar when they would let her. Every coin she earned was carefully saved, every meal stretched to last. Hunger became a familiar ache, exhaustion a constant companion. But she refused to give up.

By eighteen, she had clawed her way into university.

But even there, the shadow of her past followed her.

Victor Aldridge.

A name that carried weight, a man whose power stretched far beyond the walls of the university he now controlled.

To the world, he was a businessman, a generous benefactor, a man who had 'saved' the university from financial ruin. But beneath the polished exterior lay something far more sinister.

Victor had once been Daniel Lenz's closest friend. They had walked the same halls, shared the same ambitions, built dreams together. But where Daniel had sought knowledge, Victor had sought power.

Their friendship had splintered when greed took hold. Victor saw the university not as a place of education, but as a kingdom to be conquered. He had approached Daniel with plans to privatize the institution, to mold it into something that served only the elite. But Daniel had refused.

And for that, he had paid the price.

The betrayal had been meticulous, a game played with precision. Documents were forged, funds were manipulated, and rumors were spread. Slowly, Daniel found himself being pushed into a corner, his reputation tarnished. Then came the final blow—a scandal manufactured so convincingly that no one had questioned its legitimacy.

When Daniel Lenz was found dead in his own home, Victor had been the first to offer condolences. The first to step forward and claim the university in the aftermath.

It had all been planned.

And now, years later, his eyes were set on the last remaining piece of his past—Amara.

The moment she had walked back into the university, he had known she would be a problem. But problems had solutions. And he had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of eliminating obstacles.

He had made sure she suffered, that she had nowhere to turn. He had pulled strings behind the scenes, ensuring that she remained trapped in a cycle of poverty and struggle. Every job she found mysteriously disappeared. Every opportunity she grasped was snatched away. He had kept her in the shadows, in the dirt, so that she would never rise.

She was her father's daughter, after all. And he would not make the mistake of underestimating her.

But now, she was walking into his domain.

And he was waiting.