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“How long can my grandmother remain?” With urgency lacing her voice, Millie inquired, The doctor’s reply, a sobering revelation, drifted forth. “A week, at most.”

The news hit Millie like a sudden downpour, casting shadows of despondency that swayed her balance and threatened to sweep her into the abyss of unconsciousness.

It took her a drawn-out spell to regain her footing and steady her spirit.

“Grant me the grace of contemplation,” she softly beseeched, her voice a whisper carried on wings of vulnerability.

A gust of self-doubt surged through her. She hadn’t been able to persuade Leon into operating on her grandmother.

She approached the ICU with cautious steps, her gaze woven with concem. There, her grandmother lay—a delicate masterpiece in the sterile room’s tableau. Tubes and wires adorned her, a symphony of science against nature’s fate. Millie felt her grandmother’s pain, the melodies of discomfort within her.

all night. Millie was an intoxicating presence in his thoughts. The room

in the living room. Celeste’s recurring words echoed. “Without that wicked enchantress, this

thought, a realm of contemplation unbeknownst to

yet Marcus appeared

is a repository of artifice. A multitude of virtuous women exist, ones surpassing her.” Observing

Such a malevolent woman

not witnessed the sinister nature that she conceals? Yesterday’s theater of deception was her masterpiece, an endeavor that ensnared me in its snare,

silence draped the room. Marcus’ lips formed a pensive seal.

chose to retaliate openly. It seemed she held little regard for

he declared, “There is