Chapter 1292

Chapter 1292:

“Makenna… Makenna… my child.”

In a daze, I heard a soft voice calling my name. It seemed to come from a great distance, yet it echoed deep within my mind, wrapping me in a comforting warmth.

I tried to open my eyes, but my lids felt as heavy as stone.

A dull ache pulsed through my body, my head pounding as though pierced by countless needles.

Through the fog of my consciousness, a shimmering figure appeared—a woman with flowing hair, her face blurred and unrecognizable.

“Who… who are you?” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, as if I had wandered a wasteland.

The figure’s lips parted, as if to reply…

“Ah!” I jolted awake, cold sweat clinging to my skin. Above me stretched the rough, thatched ceiling of a small hut.

Where was I?

The wooden door creaked open, startling me.

I tensed, but then an elderly woman with a deeply lined face hurried inside. Her cloudy eyes sparkled with relief when she saw me awake. “Oh, my dear! You’re finally awake!”

She shuffled quickly to my side, her weathered hand resting gently on my forehead. “You’ve been out for seven days. I was so worried. The doctor warned that if you didn’t wake soon, you might never return.”

Seven days? I had been unconscious for an entire week? How was that possible?

I stared at her, bewildered, struggling to piece together the fragments of memory. But whenever I tried to probe too deeply, a sharp pain hammered my skull, forcing me to clutch my head in agony.

“What’s wrong, dear?” The woman’s face creased with concern as she gently patted my back. “How about you rest a little longer? Shall I fetch the doctor?”

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When I didn’t answer, she turned to leave, likely to summon help.

I quickly grabbed her hand. “No, please, don’t trouble yourself. I’m feeling better now.”

For some reason, trying to recall anything sent unbearable pain through my head, but when I stopped, the throbbing eased.

“Ma’am, who are you?” I asked, my voice rough as I studied the elderly woman. My fingers instinctively tightened around the rough blanket. “Why am I here?”

Her wrinkles softened into a warm smile. “My name is Kaya Collins. Just call me Kaya,” she said.

She gently patted my hand and tucked it back under the blanket. “I found you by the riverbank, lying in the shallows, covered in bruises.”

She paused, concern flickering in her eyes. “What’s your name, dear? Where’s your home? How did you end up there all alone? Shall I help you find your family?”

My name?

What was my name?

I strained to remember, but my mind offered only fractured images—plummeting, the howl of wind, the freezing bite of river water… then nothing but a void.

“I… I can’t remember anything…” I gripped my head as the flashes of falling and tumbling sent sharp pain shooting through my temples.

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