"Mary!"
Russell caught her before she could fall.
Mary leaned against Russell's chest, her pupils trembling as she stared at her home.
"What on earth is happening?"
There was helplessness and confusion in the girl's voice.
"Why… why did it catch fire?"
"Calm down, Mary. I'm here."
Russell comforted her gently.
At that moment, someone stumbled out from the courtyard.
Mary recognized the person. It was the butler, William.
Even the old butler, who usually remained calm even if Mount Everest collapsed before his eyes and always paid great attention to his appearance, now looked utterly disheveled.
His neatly combed white hair was soaked with sweat and snow, plastered to his forehead. His elegant tailcoat was covered in ash and water stains, with several holes burned into it.
"Miss! Thank goodness you're finally back!"
William looked as though he was about to collapse in front of Mary. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably, and his voice was hoarse and barely audible.
"William…" Mary pulled away from Russell's embrace, grabbed the old butler's arm, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.
She pulled her hood even deeper over her head, leaving only her pale chin and tear-streaked cheeks exposed, and asked in a trembling, almost broken voice,
"Why did the house catch fire? Where's Father? Where is Father?!"
As Mary asked the question, her heart pounded violently.
"The fire started in the master's study…" William wiped the soot from his face and spoke quickly, his voice choked with emotion.
"The embers from the fireplace must have accidentally rolled onto the carpet. Because the window was open, the fire spread rapidly…"
"The room was lit by incense, so no one noticed the smoke until the fire had been burning for some time.
The master had fallen asleep inside… No matter how much we called, he wouldn't wake up…"
Cause and effect were perfectly aligned.
Mary smiled inwardly, but outwardly she pretended to be on the verge of fainting and collapsed, her body going limp as she fell backward.
Russell firmly supported her shoulders, furrowing his brows as he looked at the old butler.
"Where is Mr. Morstan? Is he safe?"
"If the study had caught fire on such a large scale that even the doorframe was charred, then what about the people inside…?"
Mary's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.
She took a deep breath and prepared to let out a heart-wrenching, desperate cry to perfectly conclude this meticulously planned play.
However, the old butler's next words struck her like a heavy hammer to the head.
"It was a blessing in the midst of misfortune! May the Morstan family be under divine protection!"
William clasped his hands together and bowed his head toward the gray night sky, letting out a relieved voice of someone who had survived a disaster.
"It just so happened that a friend of the master came to visit, so we had the opportunity to go to the master and learn about the situation in the study."
"After that, several of us servants and I forced the door open and managed to drag the master out before the fire became completely uncontrollable."
"However… the master suffered severe burns all over his body and lost consciousness… He has been taken to the hospital."
It was as though lightning had exploded inside Mary's mind.
The sound of the wind, the snow, the sirens, and all the surrounding noise disappeared without a trace at that moment.
All that remained in the world was that chilling sentence: "He has already been taken to the hospital."
Mary stood frozen in place. Her trembling was no longer an act—it was a violent shaking rising from the depths of her soul.
"What… what did you say?"
Her voice was hoarse. "Someone went to look for Father?"
If not for the hood and the darkness, Russell would probably have been shocked by the terror and awe that flashed through her emerald green eyes at that moment.
"Yes," the old housekeeper added hurriedly while wiping away tears, too overjoyed to believe it.
"Thanks to Mr. Edmondi's visit, otherwise the master would have been in real trouble!"
"This is… how is this even possible…?"
"Yes… Such an extremely low-probability event happened to the master as well."
William spoke with deep emotion.
"The master was truly fated to survive…"
Mary's legs gave out as though she had instantly lost the support of her bones, and she collapsed onto her knees in the snow.
The ice-cold snowmelt instantly soaked the hem of her pure white velvet skirt. The cold pierced from her knees straight into her heart.
"Why..."
She stared blankly at the charred ashes left on the snow. Her pupils trembled violently, and her lips gradually lost their color.
The people around her looked at the young woman lying in the snow as though she had been struck by lightning. Everyone's faces were filled with sorrow.
They thought she was desperately questioning God as to why such a terrifying and unjust calamity had befallen her father.
No one paid attention to the true meaning behind her whisper.
Why didn't he die?!
Ah, why did that damned drinking buddy come looking for him today of all days!
"I… I have to go to the hospital!"
Regaining her senses, Mary immediately stood up and grabbed Russell's hand.
"I have to go to the hospital…" she murmured in a low voice.
She needed to see that man's condition with her own eyes.
"Mary, don't worry. I'll go with you."
Russell wrapped his arm around Mary's shoulder, then looked at William.
"William, I'll leave things here to you. I'll take Mary to check on that gentleman's condition first."
"Understood. Leave it to me."
William nodded.
The carriage sped through the snowy night, the wheels spinning quickly but with a muffled sound over the snow.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was suffocating, as though time had stopped.
Mary had curled up inside Russell's coat. The hem of her pure white velvet dress was soaked with snow and mud, clinging coldly to her legs, but she didn't seem to feel the cold at all.
She gripped Russell's clothes tightly, her knuckles turning pale from the force.
The girl's body was trembling violently.
Mary buried her face deep in Russell's chest and bit down hard on her lower lip until she tasted the faint sweetness of blood and a metallic tang.
The extreme terror had transformed into a cold, almost insane rationality.
What would happen if she was caught?
The fire had burned everything in the study. Even the teacup that had contained the drug powder should have been shattered into pieces by the hundreds of degrees of heat and the collapsing beams.
Without evidence, it was nothing more than speculation.
As long as Arthur Morstan didn't wake up, she would remain a deeply wounded, heartbroken, perfectly ordinary daughter.
…
St. Thomas' Hospital.
The white corridor was filled with the pungent smell of carbolic acid disinfectant. The pale gas lamps illuminated the polished floor tiles, creating a cold atmosphere that kept outsiders at bay.
"Doctor! How is my father's condition?!"
Without caring about her appearance, Mary lifted her skirt and, with Russell's help, stumbled toward the door of the emergency room.
The middle-aged doctor in a white coat, looking tired, removed his mask and looked at the girl in front of him. There were tear stains on her face, and although her clothes looked expensive, they were disheveled.
"Are you Mr. Morstan's relative?"
"I'm his daughter."
Hearing this, the doctor sighed and put on a serious expression.
"Miss Morstan, please prepare yourself mentally."
"Mm."
Mary swallowed hard and nodded firmly.
"The fire has caused extremely serious consequences."
The doctor spoke in a heavy tone.
"Although Mr. Morstan was rescued from the fire, he suffered severe burns on his back, arms, thighs, and many other parts of his body."
"What was even more problematic was that he had inhaled a large amount of high-temperature, dense smoke and toxic gases, causing irreversible damage to his respiratory system and vocal cords."
The doctor paused and looked at the girl with trembling pupils. A trace of pity appeared in his eyes, but he continued.
"Honestly, I don't know whether his survival is due to God's mercy or the devil's cruelty."
"Currently, his entire body is tightly wrapped in gauze to prevent infection. He is completely unable to move and cannot move or even speak properly."
The doctor's voice echoed through the empty hospital corridor.
"He has temporarily escaped danger, but he will likely be bedridden for the next several months or even years."
"He requires the most meticulous and comprehensive 24-hour care. Any infection could cost him his life."
A deep silence fell over the corridor.
Unable to move.
Unable to speak.
They require 24-hour care.
Mary stood frozen in place, staring blankly at the doctor.
A full five seconds passed before the girl's shoulders began to tremble violently.
"How could this happen… How could this happen…"
She let out a broken, sorrowful cry like a wounded animal. Her legs completely gave out, and she collapsed weakly onto the cold floor tiles.
"Mary!"
Russell, who had been tense the entire time, reacted quickly and pulled her tightly into his arms.
Mary buried her face in Russell's chest, gripping the fabric of his coat tightly with both hands, and sobbed hysterically. Her tears quickly soaked Russell's clothes.
Anyone who witnessed this scene would feel pity for this young woman who had suddenly been struck by tragedy overnight and lost the protection of her beloved father.
But no one knew.
The girl's violently trembling body was not actually due to extreme grief.
What surged violently through her veins was an ecstasy so intense it could burn away reason!
He didn't die.
The man who had stood far above her, arrogant and tyrannical, who had controlled her entire life and fate, did not die.
He had become a completely useless human being, wrapped tightly in bandages, unable to move or speak, forced to rely on others even for basic things like eating, drinking, and excretion.
Could there be a more perfect ending?
If he had died, everything would have ended.
But now, he was alive, yet he could only lie in bed and watch in terror as the perfect stand-in he himself had created gradually devoured the Morstan family and took control of his life and death.
This was the greatest gift God had given her!
Mary bit down hard on the lining of Russell's oversized coat and desperately suppressed the insane laughter that threatened to burst from her throat.
She endured until her lips bled before finally turning her hysterical joy into heart-wrenching sobs.
"Don't cry, Mary. Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Russell held her tightly, gently stroking the girl's slender back with his large hand, trying to convey warmth and strength to her.
"Russell… what should I do…? He'll be bedridden from now on… He won't even be able to talk to me anymore…"
Mary looked up, tears in her eyes, and grabbed Russell's collar. Under the dim gaslight of the corridor, her tear-filled eyes looked pitiful.
"I don't like him, but he is… after all, the pillar of this family…"
"I'll be with you."
Russell lowered his head and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips. His tone was unusually firm.
"No matter what happens, I'll stay by your side."
"Really… really?"
The girl looked at him desperately, as though grasping at straws.
"Really."
Mary closed her eyes again, leaned against him, took a deep breath, and inhaled his reassuring scent.
"Doctor," Mary said weakly, then after a moment turned her face in Russell's arms. "Can I go inside to see him?"
"The patient is extremely weak. We just administered a full dose of painkillers."
The doctor hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"You may go in to see him, but please don't stay too long or touch him, to prevent infection."
"Thank you..."
Mary straightened up from Russell's embrace. She straightened her mud-stained white velvet dress. It was the outfit she had worn to the opera, and now it had become the perfect mourning attire.
"I'll go in with you."
Russell said.
"No." Mary quietly shook her head. "I want to be alone with Father for a little while. Just for a short time."
Seeing her pale face, Russell finally relented and nodded, letting go of her hand.
"Go ahead. I'll wait outside. Call me if anything happens."
"Mm."
Mary nodded, lightly kissed Russell on the lips, then turned around and pushed open the heavy door to the hospital room.
The room was dim. Only a single yellowish wall lamp illuminated the bedside.
Without the noise from the corridor outside, it was very quiet here. The only sound was a heavy, hoarse, sawing noise, like a broken bellows.
That sound came from the throat of the mummy wrapped in layers of white gauze on the hospital bed.
The air was filled with a nauseatingly strong smell of burnt flesh and pungent medicinal ointment.
Mary walked step by step to the bedside.
She looked down at the man lying on the bed.
Arthur Morstan.
The man who could once shake London's business world with a single word. The man who had coldly and arrogantly warned her in the study.
Now, only half of his once dignified face remained visible—his two eyes and the half of his face distorted by high temperatures.
As though sensing someone approaching, under some kind of influence, the man's heavy eyelids twitched with difficulty and slowly opened slightly.
His eyes were unfocused and blurry, but soon his vision cleared and he saw the figure standing beside the bed.
A pure white dress, long silver hair, and—
The girl slowly raised her hand and pulled back the fur collar of the mantle covering her head.
In the dim light, she lowered her head and leaned closer to Arthur Morstan's bandaged face.
That familiar yet deceptive deep blue was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, there were emerald green eyes. Eyes filled with vitality and complete mockery, without a trace of pity.
The moment the man clearly saw those eyes, his pupils shrank to the size of needle points.
His Adam's apple moved violently, and a gurgling sound like someone drowning and gasping for air escaped from his throat.
The body tied up like a log beneath the sheets began to twitch unnaturally, as though desperately trying to get up, call for help, and reach out to strangle the demon.
But he couldn't do it.
He didn't even have the strength left to move a single finger.
"Shh."
Mary extended one slender, pale index finger and gently pressed it to her lips.
She smiled.
That smile was as sweet as an angel's, but it also carried a spine-chilling cruelty.
"Father, don't get so worked up. The doctor said you need to rest right now."
She leaned down and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"La Dame aux Camélias was a very good, but unfortunately, the ending was far too tragic."
"I don't like it very much."
Tears of anger and terror overflowed in the man's eyes as he stared at her.
Mary straightened up and looked down at his desperate, powerless anger with her emerald green eyes, as though admiring a work of art she herself had created.
"You don't need to worry about the Morstan family business anymore, nor do you need to worry about who my future husband will be."
The girl slightly lifted the mud-stained hem of her pure white skirt and performed a very elegant, ladylike curtsy.
"From now on, please rest here slowly and recover properly."
"I will hire the best caregiver for you. That caregiver will feed you, bathe you, and personally read the newspaper to you by your bedside every day."
"I will watch over you for the rest of your life."
"Just as you said, the rebellious phase should be over by now."
She whispered, "So now it's my turn to bear the responsibility of this family."