A CHANCE OF HOPE

Madison's POV

I stood in the corner of the great hall, broom still clutched in my hands. My palms ached from the hours of scrubbing, but I barely noticed. My eyes were fixed on the man before me.

Samuel.

His tall frame stood beside Savannah, his hand in hers. They were a match made perfect—sophisticated, wealthy, powerful. The kind of couple that was meant to be. The kind of marriage that would be history in the making.

Mr. Johnson, my adoptive father, stood proudly beside Samuel's father, their voices filled with gravitas.

"As we've always said," Mr. Greenexclaimed, a proud smile spreading across his face, "this will be a strong union. The Greenname and the Wright family combined—what more could you want?"

The room boomed with laughter as they all clinked their glasses

Samuel didn't say anything, his expression stoic. He was always polite, always composed. But I saw how his fingers tightened around Savannah's hand for a moment, his jaw clenching.

Savannah, however, beamed, holding onto his arm possessively, drinking in the attention. "Of course, Father. Samuel and I are fate. We're meant to be."

I felt sick.

I had to look away. To escape.

But I could not.

I was stuck, forced to stand there, to watch as the man I had secretly loved for years got tied to another woman—a woman who had never had a moment of suffering in her life.

I didn't belong here.

I was nothing in the midst of this room full of powerful people. Just the girl in the background, the forgotten one, the unwanted one.

And yet, for some sadistic reason, I was compelled to witness this moment.

Nobody noticed me.

Not even Samuel.

The moment stretched, suffocating me, and then—just as if the universe wanted to twist the knife even more—Savannah turned towards me, her blue eyes shining with triumph.

"Well, why are you just standing there?" she taunted. "Shouldn't you be sweeping something, Madison?"

A murmur of laughter echoed throughout the room,my mother's eyes looking frantically at me as if begging me to do something, so she could attack me at this very moment.

My face burned with heat. I looked down, my fingers clenching around the broom handle until my knuckles turned white.

And then, without a word, I turned and walked away.

---

I was sitting on the old creaky wooden swing in the garden, my legs tucked beneath me. The night air was cold, wrapping itself around me like a silent embrace.

I stared at nothing.

My mind was blank, but my heart—my heart was as though it had been torn into a million pieces and scattered across the globe.

The sound of footsteps crunching broke the silence.

I stiffened.

Samuel.

"Madison," he whispered.

I glanced up immediately, shocked, then lowered my gaze quickly.

"Mr. Samuel," I whispered, my voice almost inaudible.

He let out a sigh. "How many times do I have to remind you not to call me that? We're friends, aren't we?"

I hesitated. Then, slowly, I shook my head.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Madison—"

Please don't," I cut in, my voice strained. "I—I don't want to get in trouble. I don't want to be punished for something I can't control."

Samuel examined me, then reached into his pocket.

My heart skipped a beat.

A gift.

I knew that look. The last time he gave me something, Savannah spoiled it.

Panic clawed at my chest. I took a quick step back. "No. No, please. I don't want anything from you. I—I can't accept it."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, confusion flashing across his face. "Why?"

I couldn't tell him.

Because if I did, it would be admitting how much I cared. How much all of this hurt.

So instead, I said nothing.

Samuel sighed, then asked, "Did you like the book?"

My lips parted, and I nodded immediately. "Yes! I loved every bit of it."

His eyes darkened with something I couldn't decipher. "Oh? Then tell me—what did you think of Thomas and Margaret?"

I froze.

My heart dropped.

I scavenged my mind for an answer—any answer—but there was none.

I gave out a empty laugh “Thomas and Margaret were my favourite characters”

Samuel watched my face drop, and then—he smiled.

"You didn't read it, did you?" he said, his voice low, almost amused.

My throat constricted. “How did you know?”

I had wished to. I had wished to so much. But Savannah—Savannah had ripped it apart.

I swallowed hard, looking away.

Samuel released a slow sigh. " Because there was no Thomas and there was no Margaret but It's okay. I understand."

He reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small envelope.

I stiffened once more, my body freezing. "Samuel—"

"Just listen." His voice was gentle, but authoritative. "I know I'm doing more than I should be doing. But I—I want you to have this."

I stared at the envelope uncertainly.

"What is it?" I asked quietly.

"A ticket," he said simply.

I blinked. "A ticket?"

He nodded. "I entered your name into a lottery contest. If you win, you get a full scholarship abroad. Everything would be paid for—your education, your living expenses, your future. You could be free, Madison."

My breath caught.

Free.

The word felt impossible.

I shook my head furiously. "No. No, this—this is too good to be true. I—I can't. I can't accept this. I don't deserve this."

"Yes, you do," he said firmly. "More than anyone."

Tears stung my eyes. "But Savannah—my parents—they'll never let me go."

"Then let's hope," he breathed.

Hope.

I hesitated, looking down at the small envelope.

Samuel waited silently, his eyes never leaving mine.

Finally, with trembling hands, I took it, tucking it into my apron.

He smiled, but it was sad. "All we can do now is wait."

I nodded.

And as he turned and walked away, his words echoed in my mind.

Hope.