“One.” In the end, Lucas gave in and walked toward the door. He glanced back; Sloane stood with her arms crossed by the window, sunlight gilding her in a golden halo—so breathtakingly beautiful it hurt to look at her. Do you think she’s mad at me? No, I should go explain again… Lucas lingered outside the hospital room, his long fingers absently rubbing the doorknob. Several times he raised his hand to knock, but each time he hesitated, afraid of upsetting Sloane; at last, he tugged at his tie in frustration. “Mr. Hawthorne…” Andrew cautiously handed him a tablet. “This is the livestream of Cora’s press conference—her official appointment as CEO…” “Turn it off! Shut it down!” Lucas didn’t even glance at the screen; his eyes never strayed from the tightly closed door. “None of that matters right now.” Inside, Sloane listened to the sound of footsteps pacing back and forth outside, her lips curving despite herself.“Sloane?” Lucas' voice drifted through the door, careful, almost tentative. “Are you… thirsty?” She bit back a laugh and answered coolly, “No.” Silence. Then his low voice again, “Do you… want some fruit? I can have someone bring fresh ones.” “I don’t.” Another pause. Sloane could almost picture his furrowed brow and those thin lips pressed into a hard line. “Sloane…” His voice softened to a near whisper. “I’ll be right here. You can call me anytime.” She didn’t reply, only flipped open the medical book in her hands. The words drew her in, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep. When she finally pushed open the door, she was caught off guard by the anxious look in Lucas' eyes. He had been waiting the entire time. The moment she stepped out, he rushed toward her—only to stumble, legs numb from standing too long, and awkwardly caught himself against the wall. “Where are you going?” His voice was hoarse from hours of silence, his gaze locked on her.Sloane pointed ahead. “To see Larry.” Lucas' expression darkened instantly. He closed the distance in a few strides. “I’ll go with you—” “That won’t be necessary.” She shook her head. “I can go alone.” His hand froze in midair; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Sloane, I…” “What is it?” She arched a brow. “You don’t trust me?” Lucas was speechless. It’s not you I don’t trust—it’s Larry. He knew better than anyone what that man’s eyes revealed when he looked at Sloane. But right now, he didn’t even have the right to be jealous. “I’ll wait here for you.” At last, he forced out the words, dry and flat. Sloane said nothing, simply turned and left. Lucas watched her retreating figure until she vanished around the corner, then sank wearily onto a bench. He yanked at his tie, restless, his mind replaying one scene after another—Sloane and Larry alone together. Would Larry confess? Would Sloane be moved? When she said she’d “consider it”… was this what she meant? Meanwhile, Sloane entered Larry’s room, where he brightened immediately at the sight of her. “Sloane, you came.” He propped himself up. Her eyes fell on the bandages wrapped around his forehead and hands; her throat tightened unexpectedly. “Does it still hurt?” Larry brushed it off with a casual smile. “Just a scratch.” He flexed his arm on purpose. “See? I’m perfectly fine.”