The party atmosphere here was in full swing.
No one cared whether Ava Zimmerman left early.
Ava herself had no interest in those people.
She walked out of the club and hailed a cab. However, as soon as she got in, she couldn't stop coughing violently—a gut-wrenching sound that startled the driver in the front seat.
"Miss, are you alright?"
The driver, who had initially been curious about her appearance, now couldn't help but express his concern.
Ava didn't answer. She hunched over, covering her mouth, coughing uncontrollably.
The driver caught a glimpse from the rearview mirror: the veil she held over her mouth was stained with a streak of red. Alarmed, he slammed on the brakes and turned to face her.
"You—you're coughing blood?! Hold on, I'll take you to the hospital right away…"
The driver spoke as he started to restart the engine, but Ava, upon seeing the crimson stain on her hand, remained indifferent. Finally suppressing her cough, she rasped out,