The Million-Dollar Heart

Vivienne had had enough of Arthur's antics. With a determined stride, she approached her mother Karen's bedside. Karen's gentle and beautiful face was at peace, even in her coma. Vivienne tenderly brushed her mother's hair aside and was about to tuck the strikingly pink quilt around her when she noticed the various high-tech monitors keeping vigil over Karen's health. Everything appeared normal, but the longing and worry in Vivienne's heart seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

"Instead of wasting your energy on me, you should focus on taking care of my mom. Put all your effort into her recovery," Vivienne said coldly.

Arthur nodded earnestly, as if pecking at grains like a hen, and promised with utmost seriousness, "Don't worry, your mom's life is as precious to me as my own. If anything were to happen to her, I'd lay down my life for her!"

Vivienne's eyes flickered briefly before she sat down to keep silent vigil by Karen's side.

For the first time, the three of them were together as a family, the sunlight casting a warm glow on Karen's serene face.

As dusk approached, Vivienne prepared to leave. She hugged Karen tightly and whispered, "Mom, I long for the day when we'll all be together again."

"Mom, rest assured, I'll take good care of Vivienne. Please wake up soon. I can't wait to marry her and start our life together," Percival said with a smile, his hand gently ruffling Vivienne's hair.

Arthur shot Percival a glare, his heart filled with frustration. He thought bitterly about how he hadn't had the chance to mend his relationship with his daughter, and here was Percival, eager to rush into marriage.

"We're already

livid. "Get

I have to go now, but I'll find time to visit you tomorrow," Vivienne said

left with

whisked her away. He doesn't even put in a good word for me. It's infuriating. When you wake up, we can't let them get married so

always called Karen "Winnie," even after learning her real

journal, with its unique brown leather cover and artistic design, looked like a spellbook "This is the journal I kept during the war. Most of it isn't about the conflict but about the things I wanted to tell you," he said, his eyes

war intensifies, and the pressure is immense. Only in the daylight do I find a moment's respite, and it's then that I think of you,

your laugh. It brings me immense joy. I long for the ginger soup you make,

blooming season, and you mentioned how lovely the scent was stole some of my father's prized gardenias for you, but you never came.

bright with amusement. He

once domineering presence had mellowed with age, replaced

Karen first thing, her peaceful face reassuring him. He then went to the garden to cut fresh flowers

with fresh blooms, felt an odd premonition. Rushing back