Lea winced as a searing pain shot through her cheek. Her mother stood in the doorway, her face a mask of fury. The news had reached her, and Lea knew, as always, the blame would fall squarely on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Lea whispered, her voice trembling.

"Your sorry won't fix anything! Go to your room," her mother snapped, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

Lea ascended the stairs, her head bowed. She longed to cry, to scream, to ask why she was treated like a pariah in her own home. Why did her mother see only her mistakes?

She wished for a moment of concern, a question about her well-being, but it was a futile hope. Her parents didn't care about her feelings or safety, only their image and their wealth.

Her nanny, a woman who had loved Lea unconditionally since she was a baby, greeted her with a warm smile. Lea returned it, but her own smile felt hollow.

"Are you alright, dear? I hope nothing bad happened," her nanny asked, her eyes filled with concern. Lea offered a reassuring smile, a practiced mask for her own anxieties.

"I'm fine, Nanay. Always better," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

After a brief exchange, Lea retreated to her room, the echoes of her mother's anger still ringing in her ears. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the lingering fear from the encounter with the three men. She had been saved by a stranger, someone who didn't know her, yet had come to her aid without hesitation.

It was the first time she had ever felt true fear, the kind that made your hands tremble and your feet freeze, the kind that made you realize that in the grand scheme of things, you were utterly alone. But it was also the first time she had experienced such selfless kindness, a feeling that resonated deep within her.

She sighed, entering her strawberry-scented sanctuary. The room, a reflection of her love for the fruit, was a haven of vibrant hues and sweet smells. But even here, amidst the comforting colors and scents, the weight of her troubled thoughts lingered.

Lea went to the bathroom, hoping a quick shower would wash away some of the day's stress. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes tracing the contours of her face. She saw her mother in her features - the high cheekbones, the delicate jawline - but her own eyes were a different story.

They were a deep ocean blue, sparkling with a warmth that hinted at a spirit not entirely bound by the restrictions of her upbringing. Her lips, full and pouty, promised a sensuality that her mother, with her carefully cultivated image, would never dare to embrace.

Lea shook her head, pushing away the thoughts that were leading her down a path of introspection. She needed to focus on the present, on the immediate task at hand. She rushed to finish her shower, knowing her mother wouldn't tolerate any delay.

She dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and shorts, ready to face whatever awaited her. The day had been filled with unexpected twists, leaving her shaken and yearning for something she didn't know how to find: genuine love and acceptance, a freedom that extended beyond the gilded cage of her life.