"Do you remember your name?" Dr. Harris's voice cut through the sterile quiet of the room.
A groggy, confused Claire blinked as she processed his question. "My name... is Emily Carter," she replied slowly, her voice strained from the effort. She stared at her hands as though they belonged to someone else. "How long was I out?"
"Just over a year," Dr. Harris answered, giving her a moment to absorb the information.
A year. She was gone for a whole year. Emily felt a pang of unease wash over her. She wasn't just waking up from a coma; she was waking up as someone else. The life she had known was no more.
"I see," Emily muttered under her breath, barely aware of the words leaving her mouth. Her mind was already in a different place.
The memories were hazy—fractured. She tried to remember her old life but couldn't. What she did know was that Emily Carter was a completely different person than the woman who had died. The old her—the one born into a life of luxury and control—was gone. Gone, just like everything else.
The sharp sting of the truth was undeniable. She was dead. Her previous life was gone. She had been another pawn in a power struggle that never asked for her opinion.
But now? Now she had a chance to live her own life. A new life.
Dr. Harris noticed the faraway look in her eyes, and his voice brought her back. "We'll need to keep you under observation, Emily. We need to make sure there are no complications."
"How long until I can leave?" Her voice was sharp, demanding. She couldn't afford to waste time here.
"You need rest," he said, not backing down. "You're not ready yet."
"Ready?" Emily chuckled darkly, her gaze hardening. "I've had enough of resting. I want my life back."
Before Dr. Harris could respond, the door swung open, and a heavy scent of perfume filled the room. Emily wrinkled her nose, turning toward the source of the intrusion.
A woman walked in, oozing confidence, with the kind of perfection that felt fake. She wore a tight red dress, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. It was hard to ignore the overdone makeup and the air of superiority surrounding her.
"Oh, Emily!" The woman shrieked, rushing to her bedside with an exaggerated smile. "Mother is so happy you're awake!" The woman's hand fluttered dramatically over her face as though she might faint from the sheer joy of the moment. "I was so worried! You have no idea!"
Emily recoiled instinctively, the woman's overly sweet perfume nearly suffocating her. "Could you... not?" Emily muttered, trying to pull away.
The woman didn't seem to notice. Instead, she continued to shower Emily with false affection, planting kisses on both cheeks as though they hadn't been estranged for years. "Oh, I missed you so much!"
Emily's eyes narrowed. This woman—her mother, as far as this new life was concerned—was anything but caring. Lila Carter had only ever cared about one thing: her own wealth and status.
She wasn't a mother; she was a manipulator.
"You've been so hard to reach," Lila continued, brushing back a lock of her perfectly styled hair. "But don't worry.
You're a star again, honey. Your career is waiting. The press is already buzzing about your recovery."
Emily's eyes flickered with resentment. "A star? My whole life has been a show for you." Her voice was biting, laced with anger. "You made me perform, made me live your life, not mine."
Lila's smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, don't be like that, darling. I gave you everything! Your fame, your future..."
"I don't want your future," Emily snapped, her voice sharp as a knife. "I don't want anything from you."
Lila blinked in surprise, but Emily wasn't done. "You never loved me. You used me. To get your hands on more money, to get more attention. And you pushed me into a life I hated."
Lila's face twisted into something between confusion and anger. "You ungrateful—"
But Emily wasn't listening. Her voice was colder than ice. "I'm done being your puppet."
For a moment, Lila stood there, speechless. The silence in the room felt suffocating, but Emily wasn't backing down.
She wasn't that girl anymore. She wasn't going to let anyone control her again.
"I'm not your pawn anymore," Emily said softly, but her words carried weight. "I'm going to live my own life. The way I want."
Lila opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, she stood there, her face flushed with indignation.
But Emily didn't care.
The only thing that mattered now was her freedom. She wasn't going to let her mother, or anyone else, define her again.
And as she stared at Lila, the woman who had never once truly cared for her, Emily knew one thing for sure: she would never go back to the life she had before.
This was her second chance, and she wasn't going to waste it.