"You never know, under pressure, people might just do anything."

Quincy had almost blurted out her scheme about poisoning Dorothy, hoping to scare her a bit. But then she thought better of it and deleted the message. With things as they were, it seemed best to wait and see what would unfold.

Who knew what the endgame might be?

If Dorothy continued to be blind to the situation, then the antidote... would become Quincy's trump card.

Thinking this, Quincy couldn't help but smirk.

Wasn't this just fate lending her a hand?

She had thought that by giving Dorothy the antidote, she'd be able to kick her out of the picture! But Dorothy, not taking it, ended up playing right into her hands! Well... she couldn't blame herself for that.

...

Dorothy hadn't slept long, finding the hospital's sterile scent distasteful.

As consciousness returned, she slowly opened her eyes, first noticing the soft tapping of fingers on a keyboard. It was light, but audible.

Shifting slightly, she looked towards the source of the sound.

Everett was there, seated at a table next to the hospital room, buried in work.

That scene...

as if they were back in their days in

she would wake up to find Everett engrossed in

responsibilities were immense, managing the ins and outs of the Lopez Corporation. Whenever he could, he'd take matters

"Awake?"

have a sixth

her speaking, and with minimal movement,

up in bed, "Why didn't

tall, had to hunch over to fit at the hospital's

you sleep so soundly, and considering I'm the cause,

Dorothy's cheeks flushed, "You don't much seem

usual cool demeanor?

with pretenses?" Everett closed his laptop and stood in moving closer,

Dorothy scoffed.

That wasn't her concern!

Residence? Or... go

on fulfilling their wish to go out like a young

Abigail

more than for us

indeed feared another

widened, her eyes squinting, "Then, I want to go on

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