The moment Rose Ward saw the photograph, her eyes froze, pupils shrinking in surprise. Her brows furrowed slightly.

She knew the elderly woman in the picture all too well.

And the younger woman beside her-her face was also familiar.

It was the same girl who had been coming to her café these past few days, the one who always ordered coffee and sometimes played the piano by the window.

There was absolutely no mistake.

Someone that striking, with such delicate features—she couldn't possibly have mixed her up with someone else.

Rose had never asked her name before; this was the first time she learned it.

A strange feeling crept over her heart like a heavy stone pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

Could it really be just a coincidence?

Scott Clark—someone she recognized from the café, who also happened to have a friend admitted to the hospital after breaking a bone, and now somehow knew her grandmother?

Years of working with Isabella Austin had taught Rose to be wary; she'd seen her fair share of subtle schemes and strange coincidences.

Her instincts screamed at her—this was too convenient, too tidy to be pure chance.

Angela, still smiling, nudged her arm. "Rose, what do you think? Isn't she a beautiful young woman?"

“She is.....” Rose nodded, though her tone was hesitant. “Grandma, when did you meet her?"

Angela frowned thoughtfully. "Oh, just a few days ago, I believe."

Rose pressed, “Do you remember how many days exactly?"

Angela looked at her, puzzled. “Does it really matter, dear?”

"It does," Rose replied, her tone firm.

Angela paused, thinking back. "I think it was four days ago."

Four days ago.

So Scott Clark had been coming to her café first, before meeting Grandma here at the hospital.

There was no evidence that Scott Clark meant any harm; in fact, Rose had grown rather fond of her over these past few days. Still, something didn't sit right.

She recalled their brief but pleasant acquaintance: Scott Clark was always courteous, charming, quick-witted, with a good sense of humor and impeccable manners. Their conversations were lively and easy, and Rose had even started to think of her as a friend.

Scott Clark could play the piano beautifully, too.

The piano...

Rose had just sent her latest composition to Isabella Austin this morning. Anything related to pianos made her extra sensitive these days.

Handing the phone back to the orderly, she said, "Could you send me that photo?"

The orderly nodded and tapped away at her phone.

Angela, finally picking up on the tension, asked, "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

Rose sat down beside her grandmother.

"Grandma, this Scott Clark has actually been coming to my café all week-long before she met you."

Angela's eyes lit up in delight. "Really? What a coincidence! I knew there was something special about that girl. I was just thinking of introducing you two!"

Rose pressed her lips together. “Grandma, did Scott ever mention which room her friend is in? Since she's been so kind to you, we should return the favor."

Angela thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, she never said."

"Not even once?"

"No."

"Did you ever see which room she went into?"

"Not that I recall."

Rose was about to ask more when Angela cut her off, frowning. "Rose, if she didn't want to say, don't pry. It's not polite."

Reluctantly, Rose closed her mouth.

She blinked, then murmured, "I'll be right back, Grandma. I just need to step out for a moment."

This was The Central Hospital-a private clinic with expensive bills and far fewer patients than the larger public hospitals. The orthopedic ward had only a handful of cases at any given time.

It shouldn't be hard to track down a patient with a broken bone.

Rose walked over to the nurses' station on the floor and greeted the nurse on duty. "Hi, do you remember me?"

The nurse looked up and smiled. “Of course! You're Angela's granddaughter. Is there something I can help you with?"

"My friend broke a bone and is supposed to be staying here, but I don't know which room she's in. Could you help me check?"

Rose had spent enough time on this floor to be a familiar face to the staff. The nurse didn't question her request, just flipped through some paperwork.

After a few seconds, the nurse frowned. "Broken bone?"

Rose's nerves tightened. "Is there a problem?"

The nurse looked puzzled. “We haven't had any patients admitted for broken bones recently. The last one was over a month ago and has already been discharged. Are you sure your friend is at this hospital?"

No patients with broken bones.

Rose's face went rigid.

She struggled to believe it and pressed, "Could you check again? There must be someone."

The nurse shook her head, completely certain. “I'm quite sure. Your question caught

me off guard at first, but now that I think about it, I can say for sure-no, there haven't been any new cases."

It was true. No record of any such patient.

Scott Clark was lying.

But why? What was her goal?

Rose's expression hardened as she tried to compose herself, taking several deep

breaths before managing a calm reply.

"Thank you. I must have gotten it wrong-I'll double-check with my friend."

Her body stiff, Rose walked back to the hospital room.

Angela took one look at her and immediately noticed something was off.

"Rose, darling, what's wrong? You look pale as a ghost."