Elizabeth's voice was barely a whisper.

"I can't return."

"Who told you that?" Samantha snapped sharply.

"You lost the Levines, but you never lost us—or have we ceased to exist in your world? You're not a Levine anymore, so what? Is that the end of everything?"

Tears pooled in Elizabeth's eyes.

She hadn't wanted to turn on her phone.

She couldn't bring herself to contact Elise or Samantha.

She refused to burden them.

Elise had an upcoming trial.

Her relationship with William was complicated enough.

There were people targeting her too.

If she had to confront the Levines for Elizabeth's sake, it would only create more complications.

Elizabeth didn't want to jeopardize Elise's happiness any further.

She could see clearly that William and Elise were deeply in love.

There were just too many unspoken things between them.

Their path forward was already challenging enough without Elizabeth adding to Elise's distractions.

As for Samantha, her family situation was complex too.

The Saunders and Levines had been longtime friends.

Samantha's mother-in-law was Nancy Levine's closest friend.

They met several times each week.

Though the Saunders genuinely adored Samantha, showing her favoritism even over their own son, Elizabeth's current status as an outcast would inevitably create tension for Samantha.

She didn't want either of them suffering because of her.

It was enough that she alone endured this misfortune.

She refused to drag them down with her.

Currently, Elizabeth was staying with her biological mother in a dilapidated apartment in Crestwood.

She'd woken up here after fainting outside Levine Manor.

The rundown place had only one bedroom and a small living area.

It was cramped and perpetually dirty.

Clara Bennett had put fresh, bleached sheets on Elizabeth's bed so she could sleep comfortably.

Clara herself slept on the couch in the living room.

Elizabeth didn't reject the arrangement.

But she felt no gratitude either.

She simply accepted everything with numb resignation.

Things had been relatively peaceful.

Until last night.

Loud banging shattered the midnight silence.

Something like this would have terrified Elizabeth before.

Now, she remained unusually calm.

Nothing seemed to move her these days.

Still, she heard the door open after the violent knocking.

Soon, objects were being thrown around.

Clara's meek pleading followed.

"Please keep it down, Denzel. I don't have any money right now. Just leave..."

"You have a daughter now! She's quite the looker. Tell her to spread her legs and earn me some money or I'll kill you!"

Denzel's vicious growl echoed through the thin walls.

"I really don't have anything. Please..."

Clara kept repeating her desperate plea.

"Stop with the excuses! If you won't pay up, I'll turn your daughter into a prostitute!"

Denzel bellowed and stormed toward the bedroom.

"Stop! Don't touch her! I'm begging you," Clara pleaded desperately.

"How much do you need? I'll get it for you..."

"Forty thousand!"

"Forty thousand? I could never make that much in my entire lifetime..."

"Then your daughter becomes a working girl!" Denzel snarled viciously.

"No, stop! Don't go in there—"

The man kicked the bedroom door open.

Elizabeth saw a bald, overweight middle-aged man.

His face was twisted with savage cruelty.

In the dim lighting, Denzel couldn't see Elizabeth's face clearly.

He didn't realize she wasn't Cora.

"You're coming with me!"

Denzel strode forward and grabbed Elizabeth's arm.

He tried to drag her from the bed.

She was terribly weak.

She'd been running a persistent fever since collapsing outside Levine Manor.

It had taken days for the fever to break.

She'd lost all appetite since.

She ate just enough to survive.

A few spoonfuls each day.

Just maintaining her body's basic functions.

Ensuring she didn't die.