The return of Serene.

The three men, unfamiliar to Claire, offered polite, almost formal greetings. "Good morning, Mrs. Sterling," the eldest, a man with silver hair and a keen gaze, offered with a slight nod. "Thank you for such a delightful breakfast." The others echoed his sentiments, their voices respectful.

Noren, ever the diplomat, added, "Indeed, Mrs. Sterling. This looks exquisite. Thank you for preparing it." Brenda, typically reserved, offered a rare, genuine smile. "It smells wonderful, Mrs. Sterling."

Claire, slightly flustered but maintaining her composure, offered a polite, practiced smile in return. "You're welcome," she replied, her voice soft. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

The men began to take their seats. One of the three executives, gesturing to an empty chair, invited Claire, "Please, Mrs. Sterling, join us. There's plenty here to share." The other two offered encouraging smiles.

Claire hesitated, her gaze instinctively flicking to Alexander. She didn't want to intrude on what was clearly a business breakfast, despite the informal setting. Her eyes met Alexander's. He didn't speak, but his gaze held a subtle, imperceptible signal – a slight incline of his head, a hardening of his eyes, an unspoken command that she understood instantly. Join.

Swallowing her lingering hesitation, Claire moved gracefully to an empty chair and took her seat, feeling a familiar tension settle in. She was part of their world, whether she wanted to be or not.

The breakfast was, indeed, remarkably good. The pancakes were light and fluffy, the eggs perfectly cooked, and the fresh fruit a burst of sweetness. The conversation around the table was initially subdued, a mix of polite compliments on the food and low-voiced business discussions between Alexander and his associates.

Claire reached for the platter of pancakes and, with a subtle movement, served a generous portion onto Brenda's plate. "Brenda," she said quietly, her voice warm with genuine gratitude, "Thank you for taking care of my father yesterday. It meant a lot." Her eyes conveyed a sincerity that went beyond mere politeness.

Brenda looked down at the pancakes, then up at Claire, a flicker of genuine surprise in her eyes. "Oh, Mrs. Sterling," she murmured, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "It was my duty. But thank you, these look wonderful." She took a bite, and her eyes widened slightly in appreciation. "These are truly excellent."

Everyone at the table, including Alexander, quietly enjoyed the breakfast. Alexander, who was known for eating sparingly in the mornings, consuming only his black coffee and a piece of toast, was now eating quite well. He systematically cleared his plate, taking measured bites of scrambled eggs and even a piece of bacon. Brenda and Noren exchanged subtle, almost imperceptible glances, a shared moment of slight amazement passing between them. It was a rare sight. The breakfast, intended as a brief, professional gathering, had taken on a surprisingly pleasant, almost intimate, undertone.

Alexander, having finished his meal with a surprising appetite, rose from his seat. A curt nod to the remaining executives, a brief, impersonal glance at Claire, and he was gone, swallowed by the imposing architecture of the mansion. The powerful hum of his departing limousine was the only sign he had ever been there, departing for his work.

Claire quickly changed from her pink linen dress into something more suitable for the hospital – a simple, comfortable blouse and dark trousers. She arranged for a driver and, within minutes, was on her way back to Florine Hospital.

Reaching the room, she pushed the door open softly, stepping inside. Her eyes scanned the spacious, sunlit private room. Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, her entire body freezing in a moment of profound, disbelieving shock.

Serene.

Her half-sister, Serene, was there. She was perched on a chair beside her father bed, looking perfectly at ease, humming a soft tune as she meticulously cut an apple into neat, bite-sized pieces. Evelyn was indeed there, slumped on a luxurious sofa in the corner of the room, her expression remarkably devoid of surprise or concern, simply observing the scene, a faint, almost smug satisfaction playing on her lips. Her father, looking significantly better, was propped up in bed, a weak but comfortable smile on his face as he watched Serene.

It was as if nothing had ever happened. The sight of Serene, playing the dutiful daughter, her very presence a testament to the family's complete disregard for Claire's feelings, sent a cold wave of betrayal through Claire's chest. Thousands of questions flooded her mind, sharp and cutting. Why did she run away before the marriage? Why did she come back now?

Claire slowly, almost instinctively, moved further into the room, her steps numb. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her. Serene looked up, her blue eyes, so like Claire's own, widening with an exaggerated delight. She immediately stood up, dropping the apple slices onto a nearby tray.

"Claire!" Serene exclaimed, her voice bright and overly enthusiastic, rushing forward. She threw her arms around Claire, embracing her in a tight hug. The scent of Serene's sweet perfume, so cloying and familiar, assaulted Claire's senses.

Claire, in a state of utter shock, subconsciously hugged back, her gaze fixed over Serene's shoulder, desperately seeking answers in the faces of her father and Evelyn. Her father offered a small, tired smile, his eyes holding a gentle affection that suddenly felt alien, while Evelyn remained slumped on the sofa, her expression unreadable, betraying no sign of surprise or discomfort at Serene's presence.

Evelyn then pushed herself up from the sofa, her posture still weary, but her voice surprisingly calm. "Doctor said that your father can be discharged today," she announced, her voice almost too cheerful for the setting.

Serene, pulling back from the hug, beamed at Claire, her eyes sparkling with what appeared to be genuine happiness. "Yes!" she chirped, a triumphant note in her voice. "Thanks to you!"

Claire stared at Serene, her sister's smile unwavering, as if nothing had happened, as if their past conflict, their bitter words, and the devastating consequences of Serene's actions had simply vanished into thin air. Her mother and father, too, showed nothing but a normal reaction, their faces maintaining an air of a perfectly normal family reunion. She sacrificed her life to save their family's life and dignity, married into a loveless arrangement, endured public humiliation, all because Serene ran away with a man. And here she was, smiling, all too happy. The injustice of it all burned Claire's throat.

A sudden, fierce surge of anger, sharper than any she had felt in days, ignited within Claire. This charade, this casual erasure of her pain, was too much. Her hands, still clasped by Serene's, tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Serene," Claire said, her voice low, strained, the politeness dissolving, "Talk to me, Serene." She took her sister's hand, pulling her slightly away from the bed, a silent demand for privacy, for answers.

"Calm down," Serene said, her tone surprisingly placating, yet with a hint of condescension.

"Come," Claire urged, her voice a low, urgent whisper, her grip tightening on Serene's hand, pulling her further towards the door, away from their parents, away from the false peace of the room. Her face was drawn, all tension. She needed answers. She needed to know why Serene was here.

"Claire!" her father's voice, weak but clear, called out from the bed, cutting through the escalating tension, bringing their private drama to an abrupt halt. "Forgive your sister." His voice held a note of mild concern, a gentle rebuke that implicitly placed the burden of reconciliation on Claire.

Claire briefly closed her eyes, a wave of weariness washing over her. The unexpected plea from her father, the man whose life she had ostensibly saved, was a heavy weight. She opened her eyes, a flicker of resignation in their depths. "Serene, come," she said again, her voice softer now, less demanding, but still firm.

Claire stepped out of the room, and Serene, with a hesitant glance back at their parents, followed. The sterile silence of the hospital corridor offered little respite. Claire walked quickly, leading Serene to the quieter hospital café.

Once seated at a small, isolated table, Claire grabbed a glass of water and downed it in one go, the cool liquid doing little to douse the fire of her anger and confusion. She set the glass down with a slight thud.

Serene watched her, a faint, almost practiced look of remorse on her face. "Claire," she began, her voice soft, an expression carefully constructed, "I know I have to reach out to you, and I should have done so much sooner, but..." She trailed off, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips.

Claire, however, had no patience for theatrics. She leaned forward, her body tense, her eyes fixed on Serene. "Serene," she said, her voice taut with a tightly controlled emotion. "Why are you here? I mean... What exactly happened?" The questions tumbled out, raw and unfiltered.

Serene said calmly, her composure remarkably unruffled despite Claire's intensity. "Mark and I were happy in Cold Spring," she began, her voice gaining a surprising steadiness, almost as if she were reciting a well-rehearsed story. "I got a job in the local hospital there, and Mark works as a designer near the village. It was... simple, peaceful."

Claire blinked, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. Simple? Peaceful? While her own life had been shattered into a million pieces. "So..." Claire prompted, her voice edged with a dangerous mix of sarcasm and disbelief, "You are all happy with your life...." Her voice shook, the tremor betraying the depth of her pain.

Serene knitted her brows, a faint frown appearing on her perfect face, a hint of genuine discomfort. "I know... I am really sorry, Claire, and I am so thankful." Her eyes welled up, and a few tears tracked down her cheeks.

"Thankful for what?" Claire demanded, the words sharp, cutting through Serene's feigned sorrow. Tears sprang to Claire's own eyes, hot and angry. "Do you know what you have done? Running away from your marriage to start a life with your lover in a village? Did you ever think for a second about Father, about this family, before you made that decision?" Her voice cracked with emotion.

Serene's tears flowed more freely now, a seemingly genuine display of remorse. "I had no choice," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Mother insisted... and I can't say no... I had to act, and..." She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, her gaze dropping.