At dawn, Amanda—who had been standing in the biting wind for three hours—rushed from the film set to the hospital.
She sprinted toward the emergency room, her small, pale face exposed and her breath hitching in the cold. She hadn't even stopped to put on a mask. As she neared the doors, the sound of Tiffany Harris's hysterical screaming echoed through the hallway.
"It's all because of you! What crime did Javier commit that you ordered him fired? Now the three of you are in the hospital! Do you want to drive everyone to their deaths just to monopolize the fortune?"
Quentin stood with his head bowed, arms crossed, leaning indifferently against the wall. He didn't even bother to lift his eyes to look at her. Javier stood nearby, silent and stony-faced, though his tightly pursed lips betrayed his growing impatience.
Finally, Dylan Harris snapped. "Why are you screaming? My father isn't dead yet!"
Shaken by her husband's outburst, Tiffany realized where she was and fell silent, though she continued to sob dramatically as if a funeral were already underway.
Amanda glanced at them coldly before rushing to Quentin's side. She couldn't see his face clearly while his head was down. "Tin," she called softly.
Quentin jerked his head up, his eyes wide with surprise. "Why are you here? I told you not to come!"
Her film set was hours away, yet she had made it there before the sun was fully up. Seeing her pale face, the icy anger in Quentin's heart thawed instantly. He placed a hand on her cheek, which was frozen from the night wind.
"Are you cold? Why didn't you put on more layers before leaving?"
Amanda smiled and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm not cold. How is Dad?"
Quentin's gaze flickered downward. "Still in emergency. The situation is unclear."
Amanda felt a pang of sorrow. She had already checked in with Secretary James earlier that day. She knew how much Quentin had sacrificed, how many times he had yielded to Javier—first for her sake, and second for his father's. He had endured an unstable home to keep the peace for an elderly man whose health was failing.
She led him to a bench a short distance away from Javier's family. Gently, she guided his head onto her shoulder. "Dad will be fine," she whispered. "Rest for a while. I'll keep watch."
Quentin didn't resist. He closed his eyes and leaned into her, finding a rare moment of peace. Javier watched them from across the hall, his eyes darkening with gloom. He curled his lip and looked toward the emergency room door with a cold, silent snort.
The lights above the surgery doors flashed until the sky began to brighten. Finally, the doors swung open.
"How is my father, Doctor?" Dylan Harris rushed forward.
Quentin stood up slowly and approached, waiting in silence. The doctor removed his mask, his expression grave. "Mr. Harris is stable for now and has been moved to a room, but several test results are still pending. I'd like to invite the family to my office shortly."
"Yes, yes... thank you, Doctor!" Dylan was visibly relieved, shaking the doctor's hand vigorously.
Quentin turned away, his face unreadable. He took Amanda's hand and walked toward the VIP suite. As they walked, Amanda noticed that his wide palm was damp with a thin layer of cold sweat.
Inside the VIP room, the elder Mr. Harris lay quietly. To a casual observer, he looked as though he were merely in a deep sleep. Amanda stayed a few steps back, allowing Quentin to approach the bed and take his father's hand.
Though his face remained calm, Amanda saw Quentin's eyelashes trembling. The sight made her throat tighten. Quentin held his father's hand for a moment before letting go to carefully tuck the blanket around him.
But as the light hit the old man's skin, Amanda's breath hitched. She saw faint, unusual red marks on the back of his hand.
Without a word, she stepped forward and pulled Quentin away. She threw back the blanket he had just neatly tucked and began frantically examining the old man's body.
"Amanda!" Quentin frowned, reaching out to stop her.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled, her voice raw.
Quentin froze, staring at her in shock. Tiffany Harris, seizing the opportunity, rushed over to scold her. "Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing to him?"
Tiffany reached out to grab Amanda's hair, but Quentin was faster. He intercepted her arm and twisted it mercilessly. A sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by Tiffany's piercing scream.
"AH!"
"You stay away from her," Quentin growled. He had endured her cursing all morning out of respect for his father, but trying to harm Amanda was the final straw.
Javier stepped forward to block Quentin, his face gloomy. "Grandpa isn't even dead yet, and you're already attacking my mother?"
"Uncle, you've gone too far!" Dylan added, frowning at Quentin.
Amanda ignored the chaos. She finished her examination and stood still, her eyes dull and glazed as she stared at the unconscious man on the bed. A wave of white-hot fury erupted from the depths of her soul.
She turned and, with all her strength, slapped Javier across the face.
"Animal!"
The force of the blow snapped Javier's head to the side. He stood stunned, unable to react for a moment. As he tried to lung forward, his mouth twisting into a snarl, Amanda screamed at him.
"You are a beast! You won't die a peaceful death, you monster!"
She knew those red marks. She had seen them once before, in her previous life, while she was preparing her brother's body for burial.
The realization shattered her. A lifetime had passed, but the poison remained the same. Javier had moved on from poisoning her brother to poisoning the man who had loved him since childhood.