Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 272

Chapter 272

AUTHOR’S POV.

The next memory rippled into view, the world shifting like a mirage bending under heat. The dim, sterile light of the doctor’s room faded, replaced by sunlight that poured through tall windows streaked with dust. The scent of chalk and freshly washed sheets filled the air.

Alina blinked rapidly and as the image settled, she noticed she was standing inside a small, pale–blue orphanage. Its walls were faded, the furniture old but neatly arranged. The laughter of children echoed faintly through the corridors, innocent and oblivious.

And there, in the middle of the small playground, she saw herself again…a tiny girl with black curls tied two uneven ponytails, running barefoot in the grass.

up in

Her laughter rang out, bright and unburdened. It didn’t sound like the laughter of a girl who had just lost her family.

Older Alina’s throat tightened painfully. She wanted to call out to her, to warn her, to hold her…but her voice didn’t exist in this realm. She was nothing but a witness, trapped in the cruel theater of her own stolen past.

A group of children were chasing each other, and little Dahlia…no, little Alina, as she had now been conditioned to believe, was at the center of it, smiling, twirling, utterly unaware that her world had been rewritten.

The matron, a kind–faced woman with silver hair pulled into a bun, stood by the doorway, speaking softly to a visitor and that was when the memory shifted again.

The sound of footsteps approached from outside. The door creaked open, and Elena stepped in.

She was younger here, too, barely in her thirties, with dark auburn hair and a face that could look kind when she wanted it to. Silas followed close behind, his expression unreadable, though the faint tension in his shoulders betrayed discomfort.

The matron turned to them with a polite smile. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Dawn,” she said, her tone warm. “I’ve prepared the documents, but before we proceed, would you like to meet the child?”

Elena smiled faintly, her lips softening into a practiced warmth. “Yes, please. We’d like to meet her first.”

The matron nodded and turned toward the playground. “Alina!” she called, her voice carrying across the open yard. “Sweetheart, come here a moment!”

The little girl froze mid–giggle, turning toward the sound. She brushed her hands against her dress, a simple cotton frock with a missing button and came running, barefoot and smiling.

“Yes, Matron?” She asked, her voice light, her blue eyes wide and trusting.

“There are some nice people here who want to meet you.” The matron’s tone was gentle, her hand resting lightly on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you like to come say hello?”

Alina nodded eagerly, her curls bouncing as she looked at the visitors.

When she reached them, Elena slowly lowered herself into a squat, her coat brushing against the floor. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hello there,” she said softly, tilting her head. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The little girl’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress before replying shyly, “My name’s Alina.”

Elena’s eyes flickered for a brief second, perhaps at how naturally the name rolled off her tongue, how deeply the false identity had already taken root. But she smiled again, her voice gentle and persuasive. “That’s such a lovely name, Alina. It suits you.”

Beside her, Silas remained silent, his gaze fixed on the child. There was something in his eyes- guilt, perhaps, though he quickly looked away when the matron glanced at him.

Elena leaned closer, her tone as soft as silk. “Would you like to come home with us, Alina? Would you like to be part of our family?”

The little girl blinked, her small hands clutching at the edge of her dress. “Home?” She repeated, her voice tentative.

Elena nodded encouragingly. “Yes, home. With a room of your own, warm meals every day, toys, clothes, and people who will love you.”

Little Alina’s lips parted, her breath catching in surprise. “Really? I can have all that?”

“Yes,” Elena said, her smile bright but hollow behind her eyes. “Really.”

The little girl’s hesitation melted into excitement, her face lighting up. “Then yes!” she exclaimed. “I want to go home! I want a family too!”

The matron smiled softly at the exchange, clearly touched. “She’s been such a sweet girl,” she said. “Quiet, well–behaved, and very kind to the younger ones. She deserves a good home.”

Silas gave a stiff nod, his throat tight. “We’ll… we’ll take good care of her.”

As the adults exchanged a few more words, Alina reached for Elena’s hand, small fingers wrapping trustingly around slender ones. “Can I call you Mother now?” She asked, her voice filled with hope.

For just a second, Elena faltered. Her eyes flicked down to the little girl’s face…wide, innocent, utterly unaware of the life being scripted for her.

Then she smiled again, her expression smoothing back into calm composure. “Of course you can,” she murmured, brushing a curl from the child’s forehead. “I’d like that very much.”

Older Alina felt the air leave her lungs as she watched that moment unfold, that fateful touch, that soft lie disguised as kindness.

Her fingers trembled. “That was it,” she whispered. “That’s when it all began.”

She took a step closer, watching the matron sign a few papers and hand them over to Silas. He accepted them wordlessly, his face drawn and emotionless.

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When he looked down at little Alina, his lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but the words never

came.

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