(Alice’s POV)

The sun was soft that morning, the kind that painted the garden in hues of gold and peace. I sat quietly beneath the cherry tree in Adrian’s garden, trimming away a few withered petals while the wind carried the faint scent of jasmine. A week had passed since I left the police station. The calm in this place still felt unreal — like I had stepped out of a storm and somehow landed in a world that didn’t know rain.

For once, my heart didn’t ache when I breathed.

The gentle hum of bees filled the air, and somewhere behind me, the gardener was watering the lilies. I was lost in the rhythm of it all — the sound, the silence, the small joy of being able to sit beneath open skies again — when my phone began to vibrate softly against the wooden table.

I reached for it absently, glancing at the screen.

“Old Butler ” flashed on the display.

My heart gave a small leap.

“Hello?” I answered quickly, my voice trembling just a little.

The familiar old voice on the other end was bright with relief. “Mrs. Markston! Oh, Miss Alice—thank heavens! The old patriarch… he’s awake! The doctor says he’s recovering well! Only a few bruises, no major injuries at all!”

For a second, the world went still.

“He’s… awake?” I whispered, barely believing the words.

“Yes, yes!” the old butler said with a laugh that shook with emotion. “He’s asking for you. The Matriarch is there, too. Everyone’s so relieved.”

Tears pricked the back of my eyes.

“Thank you,” I breathed, clutching the phone tighter. “Thank you so much for letting me know.”

The call ended, but my heart still raced. Without even thinking, I rose from the bench, brushing stray petals from my lap. The sun was bright above, the path glistening with dew, as though even the world itself was celebrating.

I didn’t waste another second. I rushed into the house, quickly slipping into a fresh dress — soft beige linen, simple and comfortable. My reflection in the mirror looked pale, thinner than before, but there was light in my eyes again.

By the time I stepped outside, my heart was fluttering in anticipation. The gate opened, and I hailed the first cab that came by.

The driver gave me a curious glance through the mirror. “Where to, miss?”

“KNT City Hospital,” I said quickly, fastening my seatbelt.

The ride felt longer than it should have. The city passed by in blurs of gray and gold. Every corner reminded me of the chaos that had unfolded not long ago — the whispers, the accusations, the humiliation. But today, for the first time, I didn’t feel that crushing weight.

Today, I felt light.

Halfway through the ride, my phone buzzed again. It was a message from Adrian.

> Adrian: Be careful, alright.

A smile curved my lips.

> Me: Sure.

He must have known I wouldn’t be able to stay still after hearing the news. I had text him earlier, before I leaving.

When the cab finally stopped in front of the hospital, I paid the driver and stepped out, the scent of antiseptic already filling the air. The tall glass building shimmered beneath the sunlight, and for a moment, I just stood there — breathing deeply, steadying myself.

Inside, the front desk was quiet. Nurses moved in soft haste, their shoes making no sound against the polished floors. I approached the counter, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Excuse me,” I said politely. “Could you tell me which ward the old patriarch of the Markston family is in?”

The nurse glanced at me, recognition flickering in her eyes before she quickly checked her tablet. “VIP Ward, Room 305,” she said softly.

“Thank you.”

The VIP floor was calm — eerily so. The hum of machines, the soft beeping from distant rooms, and the faint smell of lilies made the corridor feel almost sacred. My heart thudded quietly as I approached Room 305.

The door was slightly ajar.

I hesitated for a heartbeat, then pushed it open gently.

Inside, the sight that met me made my throat tighten.

The old patriarch was sitting upright in bed, his silver hair neatly combed back, a faint smile lighting up his wrinkled face the moment he saw me. “Ah! Alice, dear!” he called warmly.

My lips trembled. “Grandpa…”

I stepped inside slowly, blinking back the tears that blurred my vision. The old matriarch sat by his side, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her frail hand resting gently on his. When she turned and saw me, her eyes softened immediately.

“Oh, my child,” she said, her voice full of affection. “Come here.”

I walked forward, my legs shaking slightly, and when I reached them, I bowed my head. “Grandpa… I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I should’ve protected you. I—”

The old patriarch chuckled weakly and waved his hand. “No, no, child. You have nothing to apologize for. I heard everything. I know.”

I blinked at him, confused, and he smiled sadly. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. You were always my granddaughter — and you always will be.”

That was all it took for the tears to spill over. I quickly turned my face aside, wiping at them with my sleeve.

The old matriarch patted my hand softly. “We’re just happy you’re okay , Alice. Truly.”

Behind them, I noticed movement — a figure sitting quietly on the sofa near the window.

Vincent.

He was dressed sharply as always, dark suit, hair neatly styled, but his face was unreadable. His eyes lifted to meet mine for the briefest moment before he looked away, pretending to check something on his phone.

I felt that same sharp burn in my chest, but I forced my attention back to the old couple.

We talked for a while — mostly about small things. The weather, the hospital food, the doctors. I peeled a few oranges for them, the sweet smell filling the room. It almost felt like old times — before everything shattered.

After a while, Grandma turned to me, her voice lighter now. “I’ll be leaving next week again, dear. I’m going back to the countryside for a while.”

My heart sank slightly. “So soon?”

She smiled, brushing my hand with her thumb. “You know me. I can’t stay still in the city for too long.”

Then her tone shifted, calm but firm. “Before I go, I want you to help take care of the KNT Company.”

I froze. My hands stilled over the half-peeled orange. For a second, I had completely forgotten that I still worked there. Everything had happened so fast — the arrest, the investigation, the exhaustion.

My mind scrambled for words, but before I could speak, a voice cut through the quiet.

“Let her rest, Grandmother.”

It was Vincent.

His tone was low, almost bored, but I could hear the edge beneath it. I turned slightly, my gaze flicking to him. He didn’t look at me — just at the cup of water in his hand.

“I’m sorry for saying that now,” Grandma said gently, turning back to me. “I was just… excited. When I saw your designs — the ones Vincent showed me — I was thrilled. You’re talented, Alice. I’m planning to expand KNT Company to Paris, mainly focusing on design. I want you to be part of that.”

My mouth fell open. “Paris? Truly?”

Her smile deepened. “Yes. I think it’s time our company touched the global stage. And I trust you with that.”

“Wow,” I breathed, my heart pounding. “That’s… that’s incredible.”

The old patriarch chuckled softly. “So make sure you take good care of yourself before resuming work, dear. You’ve been through too much.”

I nodded quickly. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll start work as soon as I can. I’m better now.”

Vincent’s voice came again, this time quieter, almost weary. “There’s no need to rush.”

I didn’t even look at him. My eyes stayed on the old patriarch, my voice calm but firm. “No need to bother. I’ll be resuming tomorrow.”

The room went silent for a heartbeat. I could feel Vincent’s gaze on me again — heavy, unreadable, almost like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

I didn’t give him the chance.

Instead, I smiled at the old couple and continued slicing the oranges, handing one half to Grandma. The faint scent of citrus filled the air again, light and clean.

The conversation soon drifted back to business and light laughter. For the first time in weeks, I felt like myself again — strong, grounded, no longer the frightened woman who had been accused and humiliated.

When I finally left the room, the corridor was bright with afternoon light. I exhaled slowly, pressing my hand against my chest.

It wasn’t over — not by a long shot — but for the first time, it didn’t hurt to breathe.