The elevator pinged as it reached the floor.


    Evelyn stepped out, clutching a thermal bag, and made her way down the hall. Her destination was Charles'' hospital room.


    Aiden, stationed at the door, finally exhaled a sigh of relief when he saw her. Ms. Evelyn was indeed visiting Mr. Jenkins. He quickly moved to greet her, "Ms. Evelyn, you''re here. Mr. Jenkins is inside." As he spoke, he reached out, trying to take the thermal bag from her.


    Evelyn frowned, stepping back to dodge Aiden''s hand. She hadn''t expected such bad luck. Charles was admitted to the same hospital and, annoyingly, on the same floor.


    Aiden, puzzled, asked, "Ms. Evelyn, is everything alright?" Then, cautiously, "Aren''t you here to see Mr. Jenkins?"


    "Does he deserve it?" Evelyn snapped, her voice cold as ice. She sidestepped Aiden and headed straight for the room across the hall.


    Suddenly, a familiar grip caught her wrist. It was Charles. He had just managed to get back to bed with Aiden''s help after trying to stand by the window, waiting for Evelyn. Hearing Aiden greet her, Charles had been hopeful she was there for him. He had even nned toe clean about Charlie. But Evelyn''s icy words


    shattered that hope.


    Desperation overtook him as he got out of bed and clung to her hand, his eyes red-rimmed and pleading, "If not me, then who are you here for?" Who else would she make breakfast for?


    "None of your business!" Evelyn''s voice was even colder now. Just his touch made her recoil. She yanked her wrist free from his grip.


    Charles, weakened, stumbled but held onto her wrist stubbornly. Evelyn, pulled by his force, ended up crashing into his arms. Charles wrapped her tightly in his embrace, as if trying to hold onto a dream. As if doing so could make her love him again.


    He breathed in her familiar scent, feeling a pang of longing. Why was he so obsessed with having Evelyn''s heart, especially when he knew he loved Dahlia?


    Evelyn''s eyes were cold as she drove her elbow hard into his stomach. "Ms. Evelyn, please don''t! Mr. Jenkins has a bleeding ulcer!" Aiden cried out, hoping to stop her. But Evelyn didn''t flinch, her blownding right in Charles'' weak spot.


    "Ugh!" Charles groaned, his face turning pale as cold sweat soaked through his hospital gown. His grip on her wrist ckened, and Evelyn pushed him away.


    Charles staggered back, crashing into the wall, his vision blurring. "Mr. Jenkins!" Aiden rushed to support him as Charles gasped for breath, one hand on the wall, the other on Aiden.


    He looked up at Evelyn, seeing only a face etched with disdain. Her gaze was icy, devoid of any warmth, filled only with hatred. His stomach churned, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed, the pain nearly unbearable.


    Evelyn''s voice was sharp,ced with sarcasm, "Charles, Charlie and


    Grandma were victims of Dahlia,


    and you do nothing. Instead, you et


    wallow in self-pity. Who are you fooling? If they knew, they''d see your


    hypocrisy and be disgusted, not


    moved!"


    Evelyn''s words cut deep, like poison-tipped arrows striking his heart. She didn''t care about his health or his feelings. To her, what Charles was enduring now was nothingpared to what Charlie had suffered because of him. His favoritism toward Dahlia made him an aplice in Charlie''s demise. Unless he avenged Charlie himself, he didn''t even deserve to feel regret.


    "Ms. Evelyn, Mr. Jenkins, he..." Aiden started to defend Charles, wanting to tell her that he was indeed investigating. But Charles cut him off sharply, "Aiden!"


    Charles was terrified. If Evelyn knew he was responsible for Charlie''s death, how much worse would her disdain be?


    Just then, the door to the room across the hall opened. Brooks stood there, wearing the same blue and white striped hospital gown as Charles, his face flushed with fever The noise had woken him. He was burning with a fever of 41 degrees, his whole body aching, his head buzzing. He thought he heard Evelyn''s voice and had assumed it was a dream. But the voice was real,ing from outside. Feverish and in pain, he struggled to understand what was happening.