“Rosemary!”

The heavy voice echoed through the hospital corridor. Rosemary, who had been sitting beside her grandfather’s bed, jolted in surprise. Her swollen eyes turned toward the doorway—and there stood Adrian, his face pale, his eyes anxious, his breath uneven.

“Adrian…” Rosemary whispered hoarsely. But before she could say more, another voice cut through sharply.

“You still have the nerve to come here?!” Aunt Clara’s glare was sharp as steel, her face flushed with anger.

Adrian froze for a moment, swallowing hard. He stepped inside, trying to approach. “I didn’t come to stir up trouble. Markus told me… that Grandfather Rosemary’s condition had worsened. I—I only wanted to make sure...