Chapter 5

Evelyn arrived far sooner than I anticipated.

Andrew blocked every request I made to transfer to another hospital. So there I was, stuck in that fancy ward with hardly any freedom. Medical checks, routine care and daily meals all followed a strict fixed schedule.

Every detail felt polished and controlled. Still, I understood every staff member who stepped foot in my room reported back to Andrew.

He had even replaced my original caregiver.

The new woman was middle-aged, efficient and quiet in her work.

I noticed she always stepped out into the hallway to take private calls. She would shut the door and speak in hushed tones to update Andrew on my daily state.

Every move I made fell under constant watch and restriction.

Andrew locked me away in a gilded cage, hiding his control behind soft, caring gestures.

And Evelyn's visit would serve as the most delicate ornament inside that cage.

*****

She appeared on a bright, sunlit afternoon. The second the door opened, a faint, delicate tea fragrance drifted through the room. It was the subtle fragrance she had worn for years, light and understated with a distant, graceful air.

She stood framed in the bright light from the window, wearing a soft cream wool coat with her long hair falling loose over her shoulders. She wore no makeup and held a small bouquet of white daisies in her hands.

I couldn't deny how effortlessly beautiful she looked.

Her looks were soft and gentle, never harsh or overstated. She had kind eyes and pale lips. There was a clean, quiet grace about her, like a simple, soft painting, pure and untouched.

Her eyes were her most striking feature. They were bright and clear, untouched by the darker sides of the world.

When she fixed that gentle gaze on someone, it wove a quiet illusion of wholehearted attention and soft sympathy. It felt as though she focused entirely on that person's pain and struggles.

Andrew had been captivated by that exact look in her eyes.

"Charlotte," she breathed out. Her eyes glistened red at once, and her voice shook with quiet distress. "How could things have fallen apart like this for you?"

She hurried to the bed and set the bouquet down on the nightstand. Then she crouched down and wrapped both hands around mine.

She tilted her head up to meet my gaze. Tears slipped down her cheeks and landed on the back of my hand, warm and real.

"I was in the middle of rehearsals at a concert hall in Vestania when word reached me.

"I froze on the spot and booked the earliest flight home right away." Her throat tightened with every word and her hold on my hands grew firmer. "I keep wondering how much pain this has caused. I need to know how much it hurts."

I studied her tear-stained face and raw sorrow. An odd, heavy feeling settled deep inside my chest.

Every part of her grief rang true. Her tears were sincere and her unsteady tone came from real distress. Evelyn never put on empty displays of emotion. Her own sense of dignity would never allow a hollow pretense.

Still, I knew her sorrow held the same quiet harm as Andrew's gentle care. Every soft word and tear felt genuine, yet slow and poisonous all at once.

I breathed her name in a thin, quiet whisper, "Evelyn."

"Don't strain yourself to speak." She lifted her hand to brush softly over my mouth, her cheeks still wet with tears. "The doctor ordered strict rest for your vocal cords. You only need to listen. I understand everything you've been through."

She sat beside the bed and began chattering on about her time in Vestania and the sudden fear that came after she heard what had happened.

She talked of constant prayers and quiet worry through every passing day. She promised to remain in the city for good. She said she would stay close and care for my needs until full healing returned.

Her voice held a lovely, gentle quality. Media outlets had long praised its rare, unspoiled tone. That soft sound wrapped around my ears in the moment, steady and light like water moving through a quiet stream.

I would have broken down in raw emotion if I'd remained blind to the truth. I would have leaned into her comfort and poured out every hidden hurt if I hadn't overheard Andrew's private words outside the hospital room.

But clear awareness kept my heart cold and guarded.

I understood her return had nothing to do with caring for my recovery. She intended to step into the life I had lost.

While she crouched beside me with sorrow on display, Andrew finalized major plans for her official debut under Starlight Entertainment.

A formal signing event was scheduled for the following month inside the company's largest performance hall. The scale of the event far surpassed the contract ceremony arranged for me years before.

Her quiet promises to stay close rang hollow as well. Her team already reached out to every brand that once held my contracts. New offers carried far higher pay and better terms than the deals I once held.

"Charlotte, are you tired?" She noticed my distant look and tucked the blanket securely around me. "You should rest for a while. I will head out now and come back to visit tomorrow."

She rose to her feet and leaned down to press a soft kiss against my forehead.

The light touch felt warm and tender, wrapped in her signature scent.

"Take all the time you need. I will stay nearby through everything," she added softly before turning toward the door.

Andrew walked in at the exact moment she reached the exit.

A thick, unspoken tension settled between them the second their eyes met.

No obvious longing or silent connection showed on either face. Both of them kept every subtle reaction carefully hidden behind calm, neutral expressions.

Evelyn offered a small, reserved nod and addressed him with formal distance. Andrew returned the gesture with equal restraint and spoke in a flat, neutral tone.

Their brief exchange mirrored two distant colleagues crossing paths by chance.

But I saw every hidden detail.

I watched Andrew grip the door handle tight. His knuckles turned pale and thick veins rose beneath his skin. I also caught the faint shake in Evelyn's hands as she stood aside. Her fingers pressed hard into her own palm in a quiet, tense hold.

The two of them were acting out a careful performance right in front of me. They worked to hide the truth and make it seem no secret bond existed between them.

This quiet, calculated act had played out without pause for five long years.

Andrew stayed in my room for less than ten minutes once Evelyn walked out. He asked empty routine questions about my health and daily medication with obvious distraction.

He soon claimed pressing work waited at the company and hurried off without lingering.

As he left, I caught a faint hint of white tea fragrance mixed into the scent of his cologne.