"Lana, please allow me to go out for a while. You don't have to worry about me," Virginia muttered as she turned, not waiting to hear what Lana would say next before darting out the door. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone in Johnston Residence seeing her in such a miserable condition. The mere idea of being looked down upon because of it was something she couldn't bear. Lana watched as Virginia vanished out of sight in a flash. She shook her head, but then something seemed to click in her mind. Without hesitation, she turned and hurried upstairs. Marilyn had given her specific instructions to keep a close eye on Virginia. Every move she made in Johnston Residence was to be reported, no matter how minor. If anything unusual happened, it was her duty to report it immediately. At this point, she realized it would be best to inform Marilyn about what had just happened. Lana knocked on the door of Marilyn's room. "Mrs. Marilyn ... " "Come in," came Marilyn's calm voice from within.Lana entered upon receiving permission. The room was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun hung high, its gentle rays streaming through the window and filling half the space with a warm, almost ethereal glow. Marilyn, dressed in simple attire, was kneeling in front of a small table. Her delicate fingers worked slowly as she lit a scented candle, the thin tendrils of smoke curling into the air and filling the room with a soothing fragrance. Seeing the graceful motion of Marilyn's hands, Lana instinctively softened her steps. She quietly approached and stood behind her. "Mrs. Marilyn, Ms. Dolton just ran off crying," Lana's voice was barely above a whisper. "Is she crying?" Marilyn arched her eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Why is she so sensitive? I barely said a few words, and she's already in tears." At first, Marilyn thought that Virginia might possess some kind of extraordinary skill that could captivate Lance completely. Turned out, she was useless. "Yes, she cries, but I can't figure out why. When I asked her, she refused to explain," Lana added, a hint of concern in her voice."Do you think she might have gone to complain to Mr. Johnston?" Lana asked hesitantly. Marilyn gazed at the flickering candle before her. Then, she chuckled lightly as if amused. "There's a chance that she'll complain to Lance." Lana's eyes widened with worry. "Then what should we do?" The relationship between Marilyn and Lance had always been strained, and recently it had only grown colder. If Virginia was trying to drive a wedge between them, it would be problematic. "Don't worry," Marilyn said gently, her tone confident and unhurried. "Lance knows how I feel about her. Even if she does go to him, Lance won't say much. Trust me, she won't stir up any trouble. No matter how clever she thinks she is." Seeing the unshaken calmness in her mistress, Lana felt a bit reassured. "Alright, I'll go start preparing Ms. Daves's favorite dishes then." Marilyn nodded, her voice light but firm. "Go, on. Make sure they're Addison's favorites." Back when Addison had lived in Johnston Residence, she would always make sure the kitchen served dishes that Lance liked, never once considering her own preferences. Marilyn had noticed that, and it had pained her. Now, with the chance to make up for it, she wouldn't let it slip by. ... Addison had been waiting at the airport entrance for what felt like forever, but there was still no sign of Lance. She was growing frustrated. When she was about to find a place to sit, the roar of an engine suddenly cut through the air, drawing her attention.