Arabella Sinclair was drowning in a dream that felt like a vast, bottomless trench.

A majestic yet doting voice echoed through the dark, reminding her to wear her helmet. "Even if it's just from the classroom to the library, you put it on, Bella."

"I don't worry about anything but that little head of yours," her father, Leonardo, continued. "I'll arrange a full check-up when you get back... No dangerous routes on this graduation trip. Fine, I'll stop nagging... No bodyguards, either."

The voice promised to see her soon. "I'm accompanying your mother to Paris for a show next month. We'll stop by the UK for your graduation."

Then came the chirping of lively, younger voices. "Look! So many deer! The Black Forest is incredible—it really is one of the best cycling routes in the world!"

"Come on, Bella! Only thirty kilometers until we hit the restaurant!"

The group urged her forward. "Take a rest if you're tired... You don't need us to wait? Alright, we'll head up. Call us if anything happens..."

The sounds began to tangle and warp. The sunny trail dissolved into a suffocating fir forest where the canopy choked out the light.

She was running, breath catching in her throat, lost in the shadows. Then came a sharp bang.

The world shattered like a smashed television screen. The voices and images disintegrated into a gray wall of static.

Nothingness followed.

When Arabella finally opened her eyes, her mind felt like an empty sea. She drifted in the center of it, anchorless and hollow.

She stared blankly at the man standing before her. He was impossibly tall, his silhouette framed by a golden halo of sunset.

For a heartbeat, she wondered if this was heaven.

The man offered a gentle smile. He picked up the bedside phone and spoke a string of sharp, foreign words.

Three medical staff entered the room. They surrounded her, clipping cold metal instruments to her wrists and ankles.

Before she could process the intrusion, they had expertly drawn three vials of blood. The needle prick was so faint she barely felt it.

A nurse leaned over with a professional smile. "Removing the urinary catheter will be a bit uncomfortable. Stay still; it won't hurt."

Arabella didn't understand the language. When they reached for her legs, panic flared.

She gripped the silk sheets until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes widened, darting around the room in terror.

Frederick leaned down, his large palm covering the back of her trembling hand. "Good girl, don't be afraid. Just stay still. Relax."

His voice was deep and resonant. His eyes were the color of royal blue sapphires, deep enough to pull her in.

As the staff pulled back the covers, Frederick turned his gaze away and closed his eyes. Arabella froze.

"Ah!" A sharp, stinging sensation bloomed at her most private center.

The staff moved with clinical efficiency, removing the tube and sliding clean silk underwear into place. They pulled the duvet back over her.

Arabella's face burned a deep crimson. She pressed her legs tight together, watching the strangers with the wariness of a cornered animal.

"Sir, her vitals are normal," the doctor reported to Frederick. "The wounds are healing faster than expected. We're taking the blood to the lab now."

The doctor added a final note about the catheter removal. "She may feel some discomfort or retention when she tries to use the bathroom. A warm compress will help."

Frederick nodded, dismissing them. Silence returned to the room as the door clicked shut.

Arabella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She looked up at Frederick. "Where is this?" she whispered.

"My home."

"Your home..." Arabella surveyed the room again. From the gold-leafed ceiling to the harmonize oil paintings, it felt more like a palace or a luxury hotel.

"You... you found me?" She blinked, her amber-gold eyes locking onto his.

"I did."

"So... we didn't know each other before?"

Frederick remained patient. "No. We were strangers."

Arabella's brow furrowed. A shadow of disappointment crossed her face as she retreated further into the duvet, looking small and fragile.

Frederick reached for a glass of water. "Sit up first. Your throat must be parched."

With his help, she struggled into a sitting position. He was careful, guiding the straw to her lips.

The water was cool, the best thing she had ever tasted. She sucked on the straw with such force that her cheeks hollowed out.

"Slowly. No one is taking it from you." Frederick's tone softened as if he were talking to a lost fledgling.

"Birdie, you've been unconscious for a week," he said, his gaze warm. "Your family and friends must be searching for you. If you remember a number, let them know you're safe, and I'll send you home."

Arabella drained the glass. She looked up, her eyes wide as if a missing puzzle piece had just been mentioned.

"My home?"

She dug into her mind, searching for a trace of a house, a street, a face. There was nothing. Her memory was as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

The realization hit her like a physical blow. The void in her head was terrifying.

"Ah—it hurts!"

A stabbing pain flared deep behind her eyes, accompanied by a high-pitched ringing. She curled into a ball, fingers digging into her scalp.

"Is the pain bad? You took a significant hit to the head," Frederick said, a flicker of pity in his blue eyes. "It will take time to recover. Don't worry."

His voice acted like a sedative. The ringing in her ears began to dull.

Arabella bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Frederick... I can't remember where home is."

Frederick's expression shifted, a subtle darkening in his eyes that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "It's alright, child. You've done nothing wrong. Just tell me your name. I can help you find your way back."

"My name?"

She tried again. The pain returned, sharper than before. She let out a sob, her honey-colored eyes turning dull with despair.

"What do I do? I can't remember my home... my name... who I am..."

She reached out, her gaze fixed on him with a crushing sense of dependence. "Frederick, what do I do? Help me."

It was a total surrender—the imprinting effect of a hatchling seeing its protector for the first time.