“William!”

Sandra called out in a panic as she saw the man striding down the hospital hallway, breath tight, face full of tension. He was still wearing the black jacket he hadn’t taken off since leaving Evelyn’s studio.

Without replying, William pushed open the door to the hospital room. Inside, Evelyn was still lying on the bed with an IV drip in her left hand. Her face was pale, her body weak—as if all her energy had been drained by the poison she unknowingly consumed.

“Evelyn…” William whispered as he approached, sitting in the chair beside her bed and gently taking her cold, clammy hand.

Her eyelids fluttered slightly before...