Lance's expression darkened immediately, his brows knitting tightly at her words, his face growing grim and foreboding. Virginia noticed the shift in his mood, yet she pressed on, utterly unfazed by his displeasure. She continued to peel at his wounds with her words. "Lance, what should we do now? If only you hadn't left, things would be different. Mr. Steven might still have a chance. "Did the doctor say anything else? Is there still hope for him? "If there's really no chance ... " She paused, shaking her head quickly. "No, no, there must be hope. Mr. Steven is such a good person. God wouldn't be so cruel to him." Virginia's soft lips opened and closed as she rambled on endlessly, oblivious to—or perhaps deliberately ignoring—the growing chill emanating from the man beside her. "Lance, I wanted to help you by seeking the Divine Healer. I really tried, but I'm just a nobody. Divine Healer didn't even give me a second glance." Her words, though devoid of direct blame, carried an unspoken reproach. Each sentence seemed to remind Lance that he had left her, a helpless woman, to shoulder the burden of finding a cure for his grandfather. She had even been humiliated by the guards while he remained conveniently absent. "I tried hard to approach the Divine Healer, but their guards wouldn't let me near. They almost threw me out." Virginia's voice trembled slightly, recalling the humiliation she endured. Just as she prepared to continue, Lance abruptly turned the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. The sudden jolt threw Virginia forward, her body nearly colliding with the windshield. "Ah!" She let out a startled cry, clutching her forehead with a pained expression. "Lance, what's wrong?" Virginia asked, her face reflecting confusion over why Lance had suddenly slammed on the brakes. "Why did you stop so suddenly? That was dangerous! Lance, are you hurt?" In truth, she knew perfectly well why he was angry, but seeing him lose his composure brought her a twisted sense of satisfaction—a feeling of revenge, though not aimed at Lance himself, but rather at Addison. Lance liked Addison, didn't he? He had secretly visited her at the hospital, hadn't he? He even rushed in like a hero to rescue her from the changing room, didn't he? Fine. She would ensure that whenever he thought of Addison, he would be weighed down by guilt over Steven's suffering. She was determined to make him realize that his sudden feelings for Addison were nothing serious. Virginia sneered at the thought. Lance's interest in Addison wasn't love—it was just a fascination. Once he came to his senses, he would regret everything. He'd realize that this fleeting attraction was nothing compared to the importance of Steven's life. And the person he truly loved, the one he had held in his heart for three years, was Virginia, his one true love! As for Addison? Just a substitute. A cold smile curved Virginia's lips. She was sure that after tonight's ordeal, Lance's every thought about Addison would be tainted by the image of ailing Steven. And with that would come an overwhelming wave of guilt. Love? Affection? A fleeting crush? All of these feelings would crumble under the weight of guilt. The more she thought about it, the more triumphant she felt. Yet, outwardly, she maintained an expression of concern. Her eyes shimmered as she gazed at Lance with worry. "Lance, Are you feeling unwell? If you're too upset, let me drive. I can handle it." She moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, ready to switch places with him. Her offer seemed only to aggravate him further. His gaze turned cold and piercing, like a hawk sizing up its prey. "Can you be quiet for a moment?" The chill in his voice carried a palpable force, silencing Virginia instantly. Virginia felt unease in her heart, but she pressed her lips together, forcing herself to stay calm. Feigning innocence, as if she had no idea what had angered him, she quickly nodded with a frightened look. "Lance, I'm sorry. "I won't say anything more, okay? Please don't be angry." Faced with the apology, Lance said nothing. One hand rested on the steering wheel while the other was propped against the window frame. His irritation was palpable, and for a fleeting moment, he felt an inexplicable urge to light a cigarette to calm himself. But he held back. His eyes, sharp like an eagle's, remained fixed on the road ahead, as the oppressive silence in the car grew heavier with each passing second. Virginia sat quietly beside him. This time, she was far more restrained than usual. She knew that knowing when to stop was the key to achieving more with less effort in situations like this. Neither of them knew how long they sat there. Just as Virginia started to think Lance would sit in silence indefinitely, his phone rang again. She glanced at the screen. It was the same number labeled 'Grandfather.' Virginia raised an eyebrow. Lance seemed visibly more impatient this time. He moved his hand from the window and answered the call. Virginia vaguely caught the sound of Marilyn's voice on the other end, though she couldn't make out the details. Not that it mattered. The way Lance silently restarted the car and began driving told her enough.It had to be severe enough that Marilyn had to keep calling. The car sped back to Halton like a storm. Late at night, Johnston Residence, Halton. The expansive estate was unnervingly quiet. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavy in the air, and even the usual housekeepers who worked in the garden were nowhere to be seen. Lance sensed something was wrong when he stepped out of the car. His face grew taut, and his strides were swift and purposeful as he entered the front door. Virginia, also noticing the shift in atmosphere, lowered her head and followed closely behind him. Inside the living room, Lance saw no sign of Marilyn. He raised his hand and called to Francesca. "Where's my mother? Is she asleep?" Francesca had just come downstairs and lit up at the sight of Lance. "Mr. Johnston, you're finally here! "She's upstairs—please, go see her right away!" She hesitated, then added, "Mrs. Marilyn, she's not in a good state."Before she could finish, Lance understood. His heavy footsteps echoed as he climbed the stairs, each step feeling like it carried the weight of lead. Virginia trailed quietly behind him. As soon as he entered the room, he saw Marilyn sitting blankly at the edge of the bed. She looked dazed and drained, her face pale and lifeless. In just a few days, she seemed to have aged several years. "You're here, Lance," she murmured when she heard movement, turning her head toward him as though she'd found her anchor in a storm. Before Lance could respond, Marilyn's gaze shifted past him, landing on Virginia quietly standing behind him. Her words abruptly stopped. Her narrowed eyes gleamed with a cold edge, and her pale, bloodless face grew even more forbidding. Virginia froze. That look from Marilyn was genuinely terrifying.