Though her hair was white with age, Emily's grandmother could still hear every word whispered around her.

The old lady immediately reached for Emily Blair's hand, her voice trembling with gratitude. “Thank you, dear. You're a good girl. Grandmother thanks you."

Emily patted the back of her hand, reassuring her gently. "It's nothing, Grandma. Really, there's no need to thank me."

A new voice rang out behind them. "Emily? What are you doing here?"

Emily wasn't surprised to hear Isabella Austin's voice. She'd expected this. There was no way Sophia Clark would give up her hospital bed without a fight; of course, she'd send Isabella to handle things. And Isabella would never come alone-she'd have Andrew Lane by her side to back her up.

So when Emily turned around, she found exactly who she expected: Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin standing together by the door.

The room was crowded, people shuffling in and out, nearly blocking the hallway entirely.

Andrew Lane stood out from the throng, his brow furrowed in concern as he shielded Isabella, making sure she could stand in the corridor in peace, untouched by the chaos.

Emily rose slowly to her feet, her gaze drifting past the pair. Just behind Isabella, Sophia Clark was dabbing at her eyes, though Emily doubted there were real tears. Sophia caught Emily's eye, then glared back-smug and triumphant.

Emily forced a smile. “Well, what brings you both here?"

Isabella hesitated, her lips pressed together, and glanced at Emily with a look of practiced discomfort. "Emily... could we speak outside for a moment?"

Emily didn't budge. Her tone was cool. "Whatever you need to say, you can say it here."

Perhaps Isabella noticed the unfriendly stares aimed her way by nearly everyone in the room. She shrank closer to Andrew, clutching his sleeve, her eyes wide and pleading as she looked up at him. "Andrew..."

Her voice was soft as velvet, practically dripping with fragility.

Andrew lifted his gaze, his dark eyes sweeping over the room with a cold, intimidating weight that made people instinctively lower their heads and look away. Emily met his eyes, refusing to flinch.

With Andrew behind her, Isabella seemed emboldened. She blinked innocently at Emily. "Emily, you've misunderstood us. We're not trying to throw anyone out."

Her tone was apologetic, but her eyes gave her away—glinting with smugness and disdain.

“It's just...” Isabella continued, "the hospital told us you couldn't afford the fees, so we only took the bed because it was going unused. Sophia's family may not be wealthy, but we can at least cover a hospital bill."

She pressed on, voice sweet but cutting. "And, well, the hallway may not be as nice as a private room, but at least it's somewhere to sleep. It's better than being thrown out for not paying, don't you think?"

Every word was a dagger-mocking Emily and Elizabeth Wilson for being so poor they couldn't pay, while making it clear the hospital bill was pocket change for Sophia.

Elizabeth's face turned pale. The truth stung: she really couldn't pay the fees.

But Emily just laughed, cold and biting. "Who says we can't pay? I just transferred a thousand dollars to the hospital's account. We'll stay as long as we like, and it's none of your concern."

Elizabeth's head shot up, eyes wide in shock.

Isabella's face drained of color. She clung tighter to Andrew's arm.

Andrew's frown deepened as he spoke, his voice low and steady. "Is there any need for this hostility?"