"I’m fine," Hazel said quickly, brushing off Bella’s concern. "It’s just a sprained ankle."

"Oh," Bella mumbled. "Come, sit here." She gently guided Hazel to the sofa.

Theodore stood still, his mind racing. ’What is happening here?’ he thought, his gaze shifting between Bella and Hazel. Why didn’t Bella recognize him? His fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep his composure. ’This isn’t right. Something is seriously wrong here,’ he thought.

Hazel sighed deeply as she settled on the sofa. She turned her attention to Theodore. "This is Lance. Without him, the thief would have taken my bag. He chased the thief down and snatched back the bag. But he got injured."

Bella’s gaze moved to the tall man standing a few steps away. Her eyes lingered on him. For a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. There was something about him—something inexplicably familiar yet distant. For the first time after she had lost her memory, she felt a connection with him as if she had known him for ages.

"Thank you," she murmured in a daze.

Theodore stood frozen, his heart caught between elation and confusion. ’Why is she looking at me like I’m a stranger? How could she not remember me?’

Hazel’s voice sliced through the tense air, breaking Theodore’s reverie. "Rose, dear, he is injured. Can you bring the first aid box? And also make some coffee for him? And also make some coffee for him."

Bella’s gaze reluctantly pulled away from him as Hazel’s request sank in. "Yes, I-I’ll bring the first aid box first." She disappeared into the bedroom.

Theodore stood frozen in place, his thoughts churning. ’Rose?’ His heart skipped a beat at the name, confusion swirling through him. Bella’s behavior was off. Why didn’t Bella recognize him? Was she pretending, or was something far darker at play?

"Why are you still standing there? Sit down." Hazel’s voice snatched him out of his trance yet again.

"Um...I have things to do," Theodore said hesitantly. "I need to go now."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for today."

Theodore nodded at her slightly before storming out of the house, his expression grim. He quickly dialed Steward’s number. When the call connected, he said solemnly, "I need your help."

Inside the house...

When Bella came out of her room, she didn’t find the man. "Where is he?"

"He left," Hazel replied.

"Oh." Bella gazed at the first aid box in her hands, feeling slightly depressed for no apparent reason. She couldn’t shake the strange pull she had felt toward him—the connection that seemed to spark the moment their eyes met. It was unsettling, the way he had made her feel like he was someone she knew deeply, even though she was certain she had never seen him before.

"Have you taken your medicine?" Hazel asked, drawing her attention.

Bella nodded absently. "Yes, I did." She set the box aside and moved to Hazel. "Let me take you to your room." She helped her rise and guided her toward the bedroom. "Wait here, I’ll bring the ice pack."

Bella hurried to the kitchen, her thoughts still lingering on the mysterious man, before returning to Hazel with the ice pack in hand. She carefully applied it to Hazel’s swollen ankle. "Cold compression will help in subsiding the swelling." She put the ice pack on Hazel’s ankle. "Keep pressing it in this way."

She went out once again and came back with the first aid box in her hands. Taking out a get, she put it on the nightstand. "Apply this after some time." She then took out a compression bandage. "Wrap it around your ankle. If you need help, call me."

Bella turned to leave. But she paused when she felt a soft tug at her wrist. She looked down to see Hazel’s fingers wrapped around her then she felt a tug at her wrist. She raised her eyes at Hazel. "Do you need something else?"

Hazel smiled softly, her expression filled with warmth. "It should be me taking care of you. But you are looking after me. You are such a good child."

Bella stood silently, watching Hazel, her mind filled with conflicting emotions. Hazel’s smile was warm and inviting, her demeanor sweet and caring, a perfect picture of a loving mother. Nobody would know she was a wolf disguised as a sheep.

Bella had also believed in her, thinking she was her mother. But the truth had come to light only when Bella had seen the news about her missing report, which her biological father had spread.

Bella had been in shock when she saw the news and had taken time to process that Zack had spun an elaborate web of lies around her—lies that had trapped her in this place. She didn’t know who this Hazel was – Zack’s relative or an actor. But she was sure this woman wasn’t her mother.

Bella, however, wouldn’t let them know she had discovered their lies and deceits. ’I won’t let them know that I know,’ she vowed silently. ’I’ll find a way out of this place. They won’t keep me here for long.’

"What are you talking about, Mom?" she said softly, masking the tension in her voice. "I am your daughter. Of course, I’ll take care of you. My injuries are healed, it’s just that I don’t remember the past. Rest now. I’ll cook tonight."

Bella walked out of the bedroom and went into the kitchen, her face darkening. She pulled out a small piece of paper that she had tucked under her bra. She unfolded it and looked at the phone number she had noted down from the news.

It was her father’s number. A wave of hope surged through her. ’All I need is a phone,’ she thought. ’Once I can call him, I’ll be free.’

Bella folded it back and slipped it under her bra again. "It’s just a matter of time," she murmured under her breath. "I’ll get out of here soon."

She busied herself in cooking, pretending as if everything was normal.