Chapter 334

"Britain is a culinary wasteland. I'm going insane." Vivian Dempsey slumped in the café chair, stirring her milk tea listlessly. "I should've packed all the hotpot spices from home."

Evelyn Carter typed on her phone: [There's a Sichuan restaurant near the hospital.]

"Don't even mention it." Vivian rolled her eyes. "They made mapo tofu sweet. That's an insult to Sichuan cuisine."

[What if we buy ingredients and cook ourselves?]

Vivian sat up abruptly. "Your throat hasn't healed! You can't cook yet."

Evelyn shook her head gently and typed: [The doctor said normal activities are fine. I just can't speak temporarily.]

"Really?" Vivian's eyes lit up before dimming again. "But finding an apartment is such a hassle. Dad already offered his villa—"

Evelyn shook her head firmly.

She wouldn't impose on the Dempseys further. Besides, their villa was an hour's commute from the hospital.

Vivian sighed. "Knew I couldn't change your mind."

A phone rang.

Vivian checked the caller ID and winked. "It's Dr. Wilson."

Evelyn's brow furrowed.

"Hey Greg," Vivian answered. "What? Seriously...?"

She suddenly covered the receiver. "Gregory says his friend has a vacant villa near the hospital. He's offering it to us."

Evelyn's frown deepened.

Friend?

Surely not...

"It's legit," Vivian read her thoughts. "I know the guy—Greg's senior from med school who moved back home last year."

Seeing Evelyn's hesitation, Vivian spoke into the phone. "Send the address. We're coming now!"

Hanging up, she pulled Evelyn up. "Stop overthinking. Let's see it first. He said it's a cottage with a garden!"

Twenty minutes later, they stood before a red-brick house.

The location was perfect—ten minutes from the hospital yet secluded from main roads.

Vivian retrieved a key from the mailbox. The lock clicked open.

No musty smell greeted them.

Instead, lavender wafted through spotless floors—clearly maintained regularly.

"This is amazing!" Vivian twirled like a child. "Look at this sofa! The coffee table! And—"

She froze.

Evelyn followed her gaze.

Centered on the living room wall hung an enormous oil painting.

A girl's back was turned, walking down a path strewn with plane tree leaves. Golden sunlight filtered through branches, dappling her silhouette.