The General's Daughter: The Mission

”Mommy!”

A voice—sweet and milky, too soft to be real—slipped into Lara’s consciousness and yanked her violently awake.

She gasped and bolted upright.

The sudden movement sent the small weight leaning against her chest tumbling backward onto the hospital bed.

”Mommy... Mommy...” The child scrambled closer. ”You’re awake.”

Lara’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.

A face hovered inches from hers—delicate and pale, framed by short black curls. The child’s eyes were enormous, obsidian pools that seemed far too knowing for such a small face. For a breathless moment, Lara couldn’t even tell if the child was a boy or a girl.

The familiarity terrified her more than the confusion.

”W-what’s your name, little one?” Lara croaked. Her throat burned as if she’d been screaming for days.

Her mouth opened, but her thoughts scattered.

The child didn’t answer right away. Instead, she studied Lara with quiet intensity—like she was memorizing her all over again. Then she slid carefully off the bed, retrieved a water bottle from the side table, and climbed back up, pressing it into Lara’s trembling hands.

”My name is Shayreelyn, Mommy. But you can call me Shay.” She beamed, proud and bright.

Mommy.

The word struck Lara like a blow.

Her brows knit together. The girl didn’t seem the least bit bothered that Lara hadn’t recognized her—hadn’t known her name. Panic curled low in Lara’s stomach.

Did she really have a child?

Her mind was empty. No memories. No past. Not even her own name. Just a vast, white nothingness.

”Please drink,” Shay urged softly. ”You must be thirsty. You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

”Thank you,” Lara whispered.

Her hands shook as she tried to twist the cap open. It took several tries before it finally loosened. Her fingers were thin, unnaturally pale—like they hadn’t seen sunlight in a very long time.

Lara took a cautious sip. The cool water grounded her—but only slightly.

”Shay...” Lara swallowed, then forced herself to meet the child’s eyes. ”How old are you? And... what’s my name? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Shay hesitated.

Just for a heartbeat too long.

”I’m five,” she finally said. ”And your name is Moira. Moira Torres.” Her smile returned, sweet but strained. ”You must have hit your head really hard, Mommy. How could you forget your name—and your pretty baby?”

Moira Torres. The name slid through Lara’s mind without leaving a mark.

She shook her head faintly. Nothing. No spark. No recognition.

Suddenly, pain exploded behind her eyes.

Two babies flashed through her mind—a boy and a girl, chubby and laughing, reaching for her. The images blurred instantly, like a picture seen through cascading water, impossible to grasp.

She gasped, clutching her head.

”Mommy, are you okay?” Shay hurried back onto the bed and wrapped her small arms tightly around Lara’s fragile body.

The warmth of the hug almost broke her.

Before Lara could respond, the door burst open.

A young woman in a nanny’s uniform rushed in, panic etched across her face, followed closely by a tall man in a perfectly pressed black suit who filled the doorway with his presence.

”Princess!” the woman cried. ”You scared me to death. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Princess. Something flickered in Lara’s eyes. Like she remembered something, but then it was gone before she could grasp it.

The nanny crossed the room in seconds and lifted Shay off the bed.

”No! Let me go!” Shay screamed, thrashing wildly. ”I want Mommy!”

Her small fists pounded against the woman’s chest, the transformation so sudden it stunned Lara. How could a gentle and sweet child suddenly throw a tantrum?

Then—

”Shayreelyn!”

The man’s voice was deep and commanding. It cut through the chaos like steel.

In two long strides, he reached the bed and took Shay from the nanny’s arms. For a moment, Shay froze. Then, once settled against his chest, she burst into loud, heart-wrenching sobs, squirming even harder.

The crying drilled straight into Lara’s skull.

Her head throbbed violently. The room tilted, edges blurring, darkness licking at the corners of her vision—terror wrapped around her ribs, tight and merciless.

A terrifying certainty settled over her—

If Shay didn’t stop crying, Lara knew—knew with chilling certainty—that she would be dragged back into the void she had barely escaped.

”Shay... please...” Lara whispered, cradling her head with trembling hands. ”My head...”

Her voice was barely there, fragile as glass.

The effect was instant.

Shay stilled. The sobs hitched once, twice—then stopped altogether. The room plunged into an unnatural silence.

The man froze. What magic did the woman cast on Shay that she obediently stopped crying with just two words?

Shay lifted her small hands and cupped her father’s face, her voice suddenly soft, achingly sweet.

”Daddy... please put me down.”

Because she asked so politely, he did.

The moment her feet touched the floor, Shay scrambled onto the bed, leaning over Lara and blowing gently at her temples.

”I’m sorry, Mommy,” she murmured. ”I’ll blow the headache away.”

The word hit him like a slap.

Mommy.

His body went rigid. Slowly, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he studied the frail woman lying there—pale, fragile, utterly unfamiliar.

Who was she?

When had his daughter grown close to her? And had it been intentional?

”I apologize, Miss,” he said coldly. ”My daughter is confused.”

Lara looked up.

Her breath caught. She met a pair of obsidian eyes so sharp they seemed to slice straight through her, stripping her bare. A chill slid down her spine under their weight.

”Hmm,” Lara hummed softly, unsure what else to say.

”Shay,” the man said gently, though his gaze never softened as it remained locked on Lara. ”The lady is tired. We shouldn’t disturb her.”

Shay pouted, her eyes lingering on Lara with open concern. Just as she began to climb off the bed, the door burst open.

A man in a white coat and surgical mask rushed in, followed by two nurses.

”Miss! You’re finally awake!” the doctor exclaimed.

Ares immediately lifted Shay, already turning toward the door to escape the cramped room, when the doctor spoke again.

”Miss—do you know your name?”

Lara frowned, confusion flickering across her face.

”I... I can’t remember. But the little girl told me my name is Moira Torres.”