Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 60: Lost Memories

After what happened, Marianna didn’t hurt or maltreat Ephyra anymore. This was largely due to the nanny, Elma, who kept a close eye on her interactions with the little girl. For a while, things seemed to settle down. However, Ephyra’s health took a turn.

A few months later, Ephyra fell sick and was admitted to the hospital. She recovered after a short stay, but not long after, she fell ill again and was rushed back to the hospital. The cycle repeated—sick, admitted, treated, and discharged—until one day, Ephyra fell unconscious while both Elma and Eliot were out.

Left to her own devices, Marianna didn’t take Ephyra to the hospital. Instead, she called in a nurse who administered treatment without consulting a doctor. Surprisingly, the medication seemed to work almost immediately, and Ephyra recovered quicker than she had during her previous hospital stays.

When Elma returned and learned about the nurse’s intervention, she expressed her concerns. "Home treatments aren’t safe for a child this fragile. We need proper hospital care."

But Marianna argued, "We’ve been to the hospital twice, and she still fell ill again! This nurse knows what she’s doing. Her treatments are effective, even better than what the hospital provided."

Reluctantly, Elma conceded, and when Eliot returned and saw Ephyra looking visibly better, he gave his approval as well. "If the nurse’s treatment is working, we’ll let her continue," he said.

Over time, the nurse became a central figure in Ephyra’s care. Her kind, attentive, and cheerful demeanor won over Elma, and soon most of the caregiving responsibilities fell to her. The only tasks Elma retained were preparing Ephyra’s meals and helping her dress. Remarkably, Ephyra’s health seemed to improve under this regimen.

This arrangement continued until Eliot left for a month-long business trip.

From the depths of Ephyra’s body, Eira, who had been silently observing everything like a spectator in a play, felt a growing unease. She knew Eliot’s absence was far from good news for the child.

For the first three days, everything went smoothly. On the fourth day, however, the nurse administered an intravenous drip and injected a substance into it. An hour later, a burning sensation coursed through Eira’s entire being, followed by sharp, electric-like jolts of pain.

At first, the pain was manageable, but it soon escalated to unbearable levels. Eira screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks, calling out for Elma and the nurse. No one came. She writhed in agony until, mercifully, the pain stopped, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

When she woke, Elma was beside her, gently wiping her body. Noticing Ephyra’s open eyes, she smiled warmly. "You’re awake. That’s good. I made some vegetable porridge with lots of nourishing ingredients. You love porridge, don’t you? Come on, you must be starving."

Ephyra sat up slowly but didn’t take the bowl. "This morning," she said softly, "I called for you. I was in a lot of pain, but no one came."

Elma’s brow furrowed with concern. "Really? I wasn’t home. I’m so sorry, dear. Were you in so much pain? It must have been awful if you cried out for me." She cupped Ephyra’s pale hands in hers. "But darling, even if I had been here, I couldn’t have stopped the pain. The new drugs the nurse prescribed cause that discomfort. You’ll need to endure it to get better." She gave Ephyra a reassuring smile. "Be strong for me, okay? You want to get well, don’t you?"

Ephyra hesitated but nodded. "I’ll try."

"That’s my brave girl," Elma said with an encouraging smile. "Now eat your porridge and take your medicine."

Ephyra nodded weakly, took the porridge, and swallowed her medication without protest.

Later, when Elma left, she got out of bed, locked the door, and went to her wardrobe. She opened it, shifted the clothes aside, and pressed a concealed button. A hidden compartment revealed a small safe containing diaries, journals, and a peculiar blue, glass-like folder. The folder was transparent, but its contents were unreadable unless removed. She picked up one of the diaries and sat down to read.

The diary’s title caught Eira’s attention: Elara.

It was Ephyra’s mother’s diary, one she had clearly read many times. Flipping through the pages, she began reading a particular entry.

Before she could delve deeper, the scene changed. Ephyra was back on her bed, and the nurse was injecting something into her IV again. Moments after the nurse left, the familiar pain returned, escalating from skin irritation to searing, throbbing agony. After enduring it for what felt like hours, she fainted.

When Elma arrived later with lunch, she asked if Ephyra had been in pain. With tears in her eyes, Ephyra whispered, "Painful."

Elma hugged her tightly, cooing, "It’s okay, darling. It will pass soon. Just be patient."

Over time, however, something changed.

Ephyra stopped complaining about the pain.

When Elma asked if she was hurting, Ephyra’s responses grew vague: "No," "I don’t know," or "Maybe." Eventually, she began to deny feeling pain altogether, even though the treatments were clearly causing her agony.

What unnerved Eira even more was that Ephyra stopped visiting the wardrobe to read her mother’s diaries. It was as if she had forgotten the safe existed.

Despite this, Ephyra’s physical condition seemed to improve. But one drug, always mixed into her porridge, never changed.

One day, during this period of apparent recovery, Marianna visited Ephyra for the first time in months. Tears glistened in her eyes as she sat beside the little girl.

"Ephyra," she said, taking her hands gently, "I know I wasn’t kind to you when I first came here. I deeply regret how I treated you, especially the day I slapped you. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me."

Ephyra blinked in confusion. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, stepmother. You’ve never treated me badly, and you certainly never slapped me. You shouldn’t ask forgiveness for things you didn’t do, that’s what my mom told me."

At this, Marianna’s eyes widened, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. "It worked perfectly," she murmured under her breath. Then, she turned back to Ephyra with a bright smile. "I’m so glad to hear that. In that case, let’s celebrate. It’s your sister’s birthday today, and there’s a party. Would you like to join us?"

Ephyra nodded hesitantly. Marianna helped her into a beautiful dress, brushed her hair, and guided her to the party, a pool-themed party filled with children, laughter, and bright decorations.

As soon as they arrived, Marianna’s attention was drawn away by squabbling kids, leaving Ephyra alone. She wandered to a corner and sat quietly, watching the other children play.

Her solitude didn’t last long. Myra, her stepsister, approached with a group of friends trailing behind her.

"Ephyra, you are here! I thought you wouldn’t come to my party because you were sick but now that you are here, does that mean you’re fine?" Myra tilted her head, and gave Ephyra a wide smile, though there was a hint of something mischievous behind it.

Ephyra nodded shyly. "I’m feeling better now. Thank you for inviting me to your party."

Myra’s friends giggled softly among themselves, but Myra maintained her sweet demeanor. "That’s good! You should join us. We’re playing a game near the pool. It’s fun!"

Ephyra hesitated. She wasn’t sure about joining them, especially since her body still felt fragile. But before she could answer, one of Myra’s friends, a boy with curly hair, chimed in. "Yeah, come on, Ephyra! You don’t want to be the odd one out, do you?"

Myra turned to her friends and whispered something, eliciting more laughter. Ephyra’s discomfort grew, but she forced a small smile and said, "Maybe later. I’ll just sit here for now."

Myra pouted, "Come on, Ephyra. Don’t be like this, it’s my birthday. You should fulfill all my wishes and make me happy! That was what mom said. Come on, it’s going to be fun I promise!"

"B-but..."

"Come on, Ephyra! It’s a very interesting game!"

"Yes, Ephyra!"

The children cheered in unison, their persistence overpowering Ephyra’s resistance. Before she could object further, Myra grabbed her hand, and the others joined in, pulling her gently but firmly toward the poolside. They led her to a spot tucked away from the watchful eyes of the adults. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of chlorine, but Ephyra couldn’t shake the unease pooling in her chest.

"Sit down!" Myra chirped, gesturing for everyone to take a seat in the grass by the pool. Ephyra hesitated, glancing nervously at the water, but eventually complied, settling on the edge with her knees hugged to her chest.

"Oh no!" Myra suddenly exclaimed, smacking her forehead theatrically. "I forgot to bring the game!"

"Nice going, Myra," teased a girl, rolling her eyes.

"Relax! I’ll grab it," said the curly-haired boy sitting next to Ephyra, standing up in one swift motion. But as he turned to leave, his foot "accidentally" nudged Ephyra’s back.

It happened so quickly. Her breath hitched as she teetered forward, her arms flailing in a desperate attempt to regain balance. But the slick surface of the pool’s edge offered no resistance, and she plunged into the water with a loud splash.

The children erupted into laughter, their voices echoing around her as the cold water engulfed her. Ephyra’s lungs burned as panic set in. The weight of the water pressed against her frail body, and her arms flailed uselessly in the pool’s depths. Memories of her weakened state after the recent illness made her limbs feel like lead, dragging her down further.

She tried to scream, but her mouth filled with water, and all she could hear was the muffled laughter above her. Her chest tightened, her vision blurred, and the edges of the world seemed to dissolve into the suffocating blue surrounding her. This is it, she thought, a cold, terrifying realization clawing at her.

Suddenly, the sensation of drowning snapped into darkness, and Ephyra gasped—no, Eira gasped, sitting bolt upright in her bed. Her chest heaved as she gulped in air, her skin clammy with sweat. It was a nightmare, but it had felt so vividly real. Her hands shook as she brought them to her face, feeling the dampness of tears she hadn’t realized she was shedding.

She leaned back against the headboard, trying to steady her racing heart. "A nightmare," Eira whispered, her voice trembling. But deep down, she knew it was more than that—a memory of Ephyra’s past, which had been locked away due to the drugs Marianna gave her.