CHAPTER 556: THE OFFER

The door was slammed shut after Theodore left. Callista broke down crying and cursing her fate. What did she do to deserve something like this?

The hair on her skin curled, and an overwhelming presence filled the room. Callista struggled to sit up. Her eyes were darting around the room. The blood blurred her sight.

Callista didn’t bother to heal her injury. She secretly hoped she would die from blood loss.

Then she saw her. Her heart skipped a beat once her eyes laid on her. From her frame Callista could deduce it was a woman. She was a magic user, and a very powerful one apparently. Her face was covered by a hood; the only thing Callista could spot was her red lips, bright as blood.

"Who are you?" she asked the mysterious figure sitting on the bed. She chuckled, her hand gracefully covering her mouth before she smugly chimed, "Your saviour, dear heroine."

"Heroine," Callista blurted, confused by what she meant.

"Yes, dear," the lady chirped. It was hard deciphering her expression with her face hidden under the hood.

"You know in life there are heroes and villains, and you, my dear, are the tragic heroine that goes through hell to finally be with her beloved and have a happily ever after." The hooded lady kept on rambling in a sing-song voice.

Callista found everything she said absurd. How could she, who was born cursed, be a heroine? How could she rescue others when she could not rescue herself?

"I don’t believe it," she stated. The hooded figure’s voice died off. She tilted her head; even under the hood Callista could deduce she was amused. "Oh, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I know deep down you know I am right."

Callista’s brows furrowed. Did she believe her? "I still find it absurd," she answered.

The hooded figure stood up. "I guess action works better than words," she said dryly, then gave her hand to Callista. "Do you accept the hand of a sinner to know the truth?" she offered.

Her words felt like a cryptic message Callista didn’t understand. She glanced at the gloved hand. Callista was hesitant. What if it was a trap? Her life was already hell—could it get any worse?

Reluctantly, she picked up the robe tossed on the floor and wore it. Her feet felt heavy as she stalked towards the lady. Her hand touched the leather gloves. They were cold to the touch.

The mysterious stranger gripped her hand a little too tight. "I knew you were smart. Be ready, Callista, because you are about to change your story." With that being said, they disappeared.

It was already late at night. Callista found herself on a balcony in a luxury estate. The environs were completely strange. "Where are we?" she asked.

The hooded figure glanced at her. Those red lips still sparkled under the moonlight. "My dear, the right question is not where are we, but when? The past can’t be changed, but the future is never certain," the hooded figure said before walking through the balcony doors.

As they stepped through the door their clothes immediately changed into maid outfits. Even her appearance changed.

Fast-approaching footsteps drew closer, and someone ran past them, brushing against Callista’s shoulder. "Why are you dragging your legs? The young lady is in labour." The maid reprimanded Callista and continued running.

Callista was puzzled. She glanced at the hooded lady, who was under disguise as a maid now. The lady smiled at her. "Don’t you want to see the baby?" she asked, even before Callista’s mouth could form a reply.

She ran off, leaving Callista stunned. Callista grabbed her dress and ran after her, trying to trace her movement. The halls felt endless, the air eerie, telling her she wasn’t meant to be here.

She found herself in a room. The entire room was chaotic. Strong magic filled the air. "She is losing too much blood. I don’t think the baby will make it," Callista’s ears caught a maid whispering.

As if sensing her presence, a weak cry filled the room. Callista’s eyes were immediately drawn to a wrinkling bundle of flesh in the hands of the ginger-haired lady.

The birth mother was already unconscious. The elder woman holding the baby’s eyes were filled with complex emotions. "She is too weak."

"My lady," a maid rushed through the door. "The other woman is dead. I don’t know if we can save the baby," the maid immediately blurted.

Callista was drawn into the drama, unable to blink for a second. "Oh my," the elder lady exclaimed. "Take care of Rebecca’s daughter. We don’t have time to spare, and the baby must be taken out of her."

Callista watched everything. She was in the very room where the baby girl was cut out of her mother, who was barely alive. The mother died as expected, but a healthy baby girl was born.

That’s when the elderly lady looked at both cleaned babies kept in separate cribs, her expression complex.

"Ma’am, I don’t think your granddaughter will make it. She is barely breathing," a maid whispered to the elderly woman.

The elder woman gripped the railing of the crib. Her gaze flickered to Callista, who immediately bowed her head. She was so engrossed, staring blatantly.

The elderly woman’s eyes drifted back. "What has to be done should be. I can’t bear to watch Rebecca lose the child she wanted desperately," she answered.

"You mean?" The maid gasped, and everyone’s eyes went wide. No one expected their mistress to be this heartless.

The elder lady nodded. "I need to rest. Handle the rest." She spoke with a heavy heart, then left the room.

A whisper then drifted to Callista’s ears. "This was how your unfortunate story started. The true heiress of the Nightshade family became an unwanted orphan because she was born too weak."

Callista’s hand clenched at her side, trembling slightly. So this was how it started. Her eyes stung. Her family had betrayed her.

The room spun, and they found themselves in a different place. Callista’s outfit changed once more.

She was still wearing a maid outfit but a different kind. The sky was clear, a small basket was in her hand.

Still puzzled, the door burst open. A little ginger girl, around six, ran into the garden. "Mummy!!!" she chimed, running into the arms of a woman. Her mother. Callista’s eyes widened in recognition.

"How is mummy’s little sunshine doing?" her mother asked the wrong girl. Her eyes filled with tears. Then the whisper came. "That would have been your life, but she stole it from you."

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