Chapter 815

Evelyn Carter gently pressed the bed adjustment button, raising the headrest with care. She fluffed a pillow and carefully placed it behind Bianca Langley's back.

"Is this more comfortable?" she asked softly.

Bianca's fingers finally loosened their grip on the cloth bag, her knuckles white from clutching it too long. She set it on the bedside table with slow, deliberate movements—as if placing down a priceless treasure.

It was her last tangible connection to the past, yet also the most painful reminder she couldn't bear to face.

The suffocating silence in the hospital room pressed down like a weight. Just as Evelyn searched for words to break it, Bianca spoke first.

"Do I look terrible now?"

Her voice was feather-light.

Bianca had always been radiant, her expressive eyes once captivating countless admirers. Now, those same eyes were hollow—like a stuffed doll emptied of its filling.

Evelyn opened her mouth, then closed it. She'd never been good at lying, and now words failed her completely.

"You just... need rest."

Bianca attempted a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Dr. Carter, even your comfort sounds painfully honest."

Her trembling hand lifted. "Give me a mirror. Or my phone. I can't look for too long."

Evelyn's heart ached.

If Adrian Valentine had left even a single word behind—just one—perhaps Bianca could have found something to hold onto. But he'd left so suddenly, without even a chance to say goodbye.

How could she ever move past that?

Silently, Evelyn unpacked the thermal bag Alexander Hamilton had brought. Inside were three neatly arranged containers of steaming porridge with accompanying side dishes. She placed one within Bianca's reach.

Compared to Vincent Croix's flashy takeout, Alexander's thoughtful preparation spoke volumes.

Bianca mechanically lifted a spoonful of porridge to her lips. She couldn't taste it—she was only eating to gather strength for what lay ahead.

The three of them ate dinner in heavy silence.

Outside in the hallway, a man in a tailored suit paced relentlessly. The scratches on Vincent's face had scabbed over, making him appear even more sinister.

He waited and waited, but Alexander's group showed no signs of leaving. Finally, he stalked away in frustration.

Three years ago, that secondhand car had been bought with his scholarship money. Back then, Bianca hadn't known who he was. During a hiking trip, she'd simply pointed at him and declared, "I want to ride in his car."

Her friend had scowled. "That junk isn't worthy of you."

But Bianca had laughed, bright as sunlight. "That's exactly why I like it."

That smile had outshone the sun itself.

If only he hadn't later discovered Bianca was the sole heiress to the Langley Group. If only his insecurity hadn't driven him to those unforgivable actions... But there were no "if onlys."

Vincent slammed his fist against the steering wheel and dialed a number. "Still haven't found that child? The Hamiltons only have a few elderly at home now—how hard can this be?"

The person on the line stammered excuses. "They never leave the house..."

Vincent smirked coldly. With that bargaining chip, Bianca would have no choice but to return to him.

Women were always weak when it came to their children.

Just then, a bouquet of red roses came flying out of a hospital window, petals scattering like rain.

"Look! Someone threw flowers!"

"A breakup in the hospital?"

"Kinda romantic..."

Whispers rose around him.

A few petals landed on Vincent's hood. He slammed the brakes, gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

Bianca was testing him.

Gritting his teeth, he revved the engine and drove off—refusing to take the bait.

Inside the room, Evelyn watched Bianca standing by the window with concern. "Should I go clean up the flowers? You said Vincent might—"

"No need." Bianca watched the swirling petals, tears finally breaking free. "I used to fear his persistence. Now I understand." She wiped her cheeks. "Since I'll never see his smile again... what's left to fear?"

The petals twirled in the moonlight—a silent farewell.