"It seems Evan more and more dislikes me, just like Phoenix, and I'm unsure what I've done wrong. This gift, given his character, he probably wouldn't accept it. I spent nearly three months piecing this together; it's better I keep it safe than have him toss it in my face. Hmm... If there's a chance, and we can be friends again, I'll give it to him then."
The card's paper had yellowed slightly, and on its back were hastily scribbled these words.
This was prepared for Evan's birthday before she left the country, sensing the growing hostility, impatient glances, and unintended neglect. Serena felt that perhaps her presence or absence made no difference to them.
Marriage was just a verbal agreement between their families.
Friendships could drift apart due to unsaid conflicts.
The wooden puzzle model was intricate and cumbersome, clearly requiring considerable effort and time.
After reading, Evan's face showed little reaction, but his usually languid eyes darkened, turning as black as ink.
Lucas, peeking over, couldn't help but remark, "Serena was truly thoughtful. I wonder why she never gave it."
As he finished, the room's door slammed shut with a force that carried the chill of Evan's presence.
Lucas awkwardly turned to Phoenix, who was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. Alarmed, Lucas rushed forward, "Mr. Lee, are you alright?"
"Leave," Phoenix said weakly, not elaborating further.
He knew Evan wouldn't let those who hurt Serena go easily, including Amelia.
"Mr. Lee, I've called a doctor. Hang in there." Lucas stayed, glancing at the time; the doctor should arrive soon.
Just then, the doctor arrived, and Lucas hurriedly ushered him to attend to Phoenix.
"How much has he had?" The doctor, well-known locally, was not a private physician. Given Phoenix's status in J city, a house call wasn't unusual. "Young people these days, always damaging their health with alcohol. We had a young lady in the hospital the other night, drank heavily, and with a unique constitution, nearly died."
Not a private practitioner, he was accustomed to chatting with patients and commented casually.
Phoenix, had he not been so weak, would have ejected the man.
On the bedside were Serena's belongings, which the doctor caught sight of. "Ah, that lady was named Serena, wasn't she? Could it be that some misunderstanding led to your breakup, and now you both drown your sorrows in drink?"
Phoenix, who had been motionless, suddenly opened his eyes, fixing the doctor with a piercing stare.
Feeling trapped despite the doctor's harmless demeanor, he broke into a cold sweat.
"Mr... Mr. Lee, let me continue my examination..."
"Repeat what you just said."
"What?"
"Who had alcohol poisoning?"
Phoenix's hand, outside the covers, gripped the sheets tightly, veins bulging beneath his skin as if about to burst.
"Serena...Nightingale, Miss Nightingale."
