paris First Hospital.
It was almost eleven o'clock when Sarah arrived at the hospital, driven by her chauffeur.
Outside, the streets were bathed in bright lights, bustling with pedestrians and lively food stalls along the roadside.
After Drake regained consciousness, the doctor had sent her a message.
But she had been too swamped with work to reply at the time.
Still, a weight had finally lifted from her heart.
She bought roasted sweet potatoes and scallion pancakes—snacks Drake used to love—from a street vendor.
The aroma was just as she remembered, reminiscent of the food alley behind their old university.
Unexpectedly, she ran into Samantha at the hospital.
Before even stepping into the ward, she overheard voices inside.
Drake's tone was icy and sharp, laced with a chilling coldness.
Samantha seemed to be crying, her words broken by sobs.
The door to the ward was slightly ajar.
