“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.

an intoxicating presence in his thoughts.

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

in thought, a realm of contemplation unbeknownst to

Marcus appeared untouched by mirth. Did he yet hold

is a repository of artifice. A multitude of virtuous

prior night? He had dark circles under his eyes. Such a malevolent woman Millie had revealed herself to

she conceals? Yesterday’s theater of deception was her masterpiece, an endeavor that ensnared me

contemplative silence draped the room. Marcus’ lips formed a pensive seal. Was Millie truly

his caution against seeking vengeance, she chose to retaliate

“There is no space for malevolence within

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