**When The Ocean Learned My Name and Whispered It Back to You**
Florence had taken a moment to check her own pulse earlier, the steady thrum a reassuring reminder of her vitality. The injury on her head was merely a surface wound, a trivial inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. As for the baby, though it had been shaken, the doctor’s words echoed in her mind: it wasn’t serious. Diana had assured her that a little rest would suffice for recovery.
However, as Florence’s gaze fell upon Sydney, a frown creased her brow. The pallor of Sydney’s lips sent a jolt of concern through her. “You call this fine? What on earth possessed you to come to Brimcrest without so much as a word to me? Had I known, I would have sent someone to fetch you from Jouleston. You wouldn’t have found yourself in this predicament!” The urgency in her voice was unmistakable, worry knitting her features together.
In a world where respect for the Hutton name was paramount, no one in their right mind would dare to lay a hand on a Hutton car. It was a line drawn in the sand, a boundary that signified power and privilege.
Sydney hesitated, her throat constricted as if she had swallowed something bitter. “I came to visit my parents. Today marks their death anniversary.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, laden with the weight of memories. “You were busy preparing for your father-in-law’s birthday banquet, so I didn’t want to impose on you.”
The truth was, if her adoptive parents hadn’t rescued her from the clutches of Southeast Lavia all those years ago, she might not even be here today. They weren’t her biological parents, but they had saved her life and nurtured her, and in her heart, they would always be her true family.
What gnawed at her now was the aching void of not knowing who her real parents were, or where they might be. It was a haunting thought that lingered in the corners of her mind.
With a heavy sigh, Florence decided to let the matter rest for the moment. She reached for a bowl of steaming soup that a maid had just placed on the tray beside her. “This just came from home. It’s herbal broth—very fresh. Would you like to try a little?”
“Thank you,” Sydney replied, her voice soft yet filled with gratitude.

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