"Is this the paint you wanted?" Elara Venn stepped out, holding an unopened box of paint, and offered a radiant smile to the boy not far away.
She was stunning, with a round yet petite face, large bright eyes, and thick dark lashes. When she smiled, two soft dimples appeared. Individually, her features weren't extraordinary, but together, they were striking.
She had a gentle and elegant air. As she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkled like starlight. Dressed in a pale blue chiffon dress, the breeze fluttered her hem. In the sunlight, she looked like a painting come to life.
The boy looked up at her and nodded slightly at the paint in her hands.
Despite his indifference and even timidity, Elara wasn't discouraged. Compared to how he usually ignored or avoided others, this was already a notable improvement.
Especially when she saw the faint beige glow around him—a sign he was trying to categorize her as someone he trusted.
The boy's name was Nathan Lane. He had developed severe autism after childhood trauma. In this world, Elara Venn was a gifted young psychologist hired to care for him.
"Let me open it for you." Elara walked quickly over, bent halfway down, and spoke at eye level with him.
It turned out the boy was in a wheelchair, his legs covered with a blanket. Although the full condition wasn't visible, his exposed thin ankles clearly showed severe muscle atrophy. Without therapy, he might rely on a wheelchair for life.
Nathan didn't speak, but nodded again.
Elara smiled, gently patted his head, carefully opened the packaging, handed him the paint, and quietly watched him paint.
She only leaned in occasionally when he was using fine brushwork to softly ask if he was thirsty or hungry.
"Miss Elara." A housemaid, Mrs. Lee, stepped out from inside wearing an apron and holding a tray with two glasses of watermelon juice. "You've been here all day. Why don't I take over for a while so you can rest?"
Mrs. Lee was a longtime servant of the Lane family. She got along well with Elara due to her kind and friendly demeanor.
Elara turned around, placed a finger to her lips, and softly shushed.
Dappled light filtered through the trees, dancing across her face.
"Mrs. Lee, please keep your voice down. Nathan is thinking," Elara whispered as she walked over, glancing back at the boy who sat with his back to them.
Mrs. Lee, being older, didn't understand autism or depression. To her, the young master was just a child traumatized into idiocy.
She thought there was no need for a doctor—just a nanny to take care of his daily life. That's why she had said someone else could watch over him.
"Thinking? He's just sitting there staring blankly. And he won't come inside in this heat. Should I bring out a fan? It's stifling in here. He'll get heatstroke at this rate," Mrs. Lee muttered.
Elara smiled, shook her head, and gently took the tray from her, setting it aside. "We're under the shade. It's fine. Also, please don't say 'watching' him in front of him. I'm not watching him. I'm here to accompany him—to paint with him."
Mrs. Lee glanced over and lowered her voice. "He can understand that?"
Elara nodded. "Of course."
"Alright then," Mrs. Lee replied. "I'll remember."
"Thank you for the juice. You're sweating already." Elara pulled out a pack of wet wipes and handed it to her. "Go rest. Once Nathan finishes this painting, we'll head back too."
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."
Elara nodded. Suddenly, she asked, "Is Miss Lane back? I thought I heard movement in her room earlier."
Hazel Lane, Nathan's sister, had recently returned from overseas and was now the acting CEO of Lane Group. Elara had met her a few times and found her intimidating.
"Yes," Mrs. Lee replied. She had worked in the Lane family for decades and had watched Hazel grow up and be sent abroad. She cared for her deeply, knowing how hard Hazel had worked alone in a foreign land.
"I still have mung bean soup on the stove. Come have some later, Miss Elara."
Elara politely agreed. "Thank you. And please, don't call me Miss Elara. Just Elara is fine."
Noticing Nathan had stopped painting, Elara nodded at Mrs. Lee and brought over the watermelon juice. She inserted a straw and offered it to Nathan. When he didn't take it, she gently brought it to his lips.
"It's from Mrs. Lee. It's sweet and refreshing."
Nathan glanced at her, slowly bit the straw, and a faint blush crept up his ears.
Elara held the glass and smiled as he drank it all.
Back inside, Mrs. Lee spotted Hazel Lane standing by the window. She quickly brought the remaining juice and a plate of cut watermelon over.
She followed Hazel's gaze and saw Elara gently wiping Nathan's mouth after he finished drinking.
"Miss Elara really cares for the young master. Since she's been around these past two years, he doesn't get sick as often."
"She's been here for two years?" Hazel asked.
"Yes," Mrs. Lee replied. "I didn't trust her at first—she's so young. But she turned out to be very capable and patient, and gets along well with everyone. A good kid."
"Yes, a good kid," Hazel said with a faint smile.
Even though she was simply echoing the words, something in her tone made Mrs. Lee shiver slightly. She forced a smile.
Hazel had always been cold. After returning from abroad, she was like ice. Even without raising her voice, her words could freeze someone in place.
She was stunning and poised, surpassing any celebrity, but so cold that no one dared to look her in the eye.
When she looked at you silently with her lips tightly pressed, it felt like being a prey locked in the eyes of a predator.
Mrs. Lee set down the tray and muttered, "The mung bean soup should be ready soon. Miss Elara loves sweet things."
Just as she turned, Hazel asked, "She likes sweets?"
"Yes," Mrs. Lee answered, puzzled by the sudden interest. "She seems mature, but deep down she's still a kid. Doesn't like real food, just snacks. I remember once she had too many glutinous rice pastries and got a fever. Had to go to the hospital for an IV in the middle of the night. Still didn't learn her lesson. A few days later, she did it again."
"Didn't learn her lesson?" Hazel raised her brow slightly, gazing out the window.
She murmured, "Good kids who make mistakes should be punished. If they don't learn, then keep punishing them until they do."
Mrs. Lee didn't hear and left.
She didn't notice Hazel's eyes fixating on Elara with an intensity that burned hotter than ever.
Hazel placed her fingertip on the window, right where Elara's face was.
She pinched it gently, as if pinching Elara's cheek, and smiled with determination.
"!" A sudden chill rose up Elara's spine. She shivered and glanced around.
"Could Hazel Lane be nearby?"
"Are you afraid of her?" the system asked in a mechanical voice.
"Afraid? Who's afraid?" Elara rubbed the goosebumps on her arm and rolled her eyes. "She just looks hard to deal with. Rich families are full of secrets. Better to avoid trouble."
"So, you are afraid."
"Shut up."
The system fell silent.
Finally, that always works.
After watching Nathan paint all afternoon, Elara's eyes were tired. Finally, when Nathan indicated he wanted to head back, she quickly packed up.
She only took the painting; someone else would clean the rest.
Carefully rolling it up, she smiled. "This one's more colorful than the last. You're in a good mood today, huh?"
Nathan glanced at her briefly before looking away.
Elara took his hand and asked gently, "Hungry? Want anything to eat?"
As they entered the house, the cool air was refreshing.
But Nathan suddenly tensed, like a startled hamster, and hid behind Elara, clutching her arm.
Elara blinked.
Sure enough, Hazel Lane was standing right in front of them.
Seriously? That's your sister. Why are you hiding behind me?
If you're scared—then what about me?