The hospital room smelled of antiseptic.

Sophia stood at the doorway, her gaze fixed on the frail figure lying on the bed.

Evelyn had her back to the door, her silver hair loosely tied at the nape of her neck. The hospital gown hung loosely on her frame, revealing the sharp outline of her shoulder blades.

"Mom, Ethan and Sophia are here to see you," Alexander said softly.

Evelyn turned slowly.

Sophia's breath caught.

The woman's face was weathered, her eyes sunken, her skin almost translucent. Yet her eyes remained beautiful—though now they were clouded, like a mist had settled over them.

She clutched a faded doll tightly to her chest.

"Sleep, sleep..." Evelyn hummed, her voice gentle, almost maternal. She rocked the doll as if it were a real child.

Sophia's heart ached.

The bright-eyed girl from the photographs bore no resemblance to the broken woman before her.

"Mom..." Alexander called again.

Evelyn suddenly looked up. Seeing strangers, she immediately hid the doll behind her back. "Don't take my baby!" she shrieked, grabbing a pillow and hurling it.

Ethan swiftly pulled Sophia behind him.

Evelyn lunged like a protective animal. Alexander quickly restrained her as doctors rushed in to administer a sedative.

Once Evelyn had fallen asleep, the three stepped out of the room.

"I'm sorry," Alexander said with a bitter smile. "She's not usually like this."

Ethan glanced at Sophia. "I thought seeing you might help her remember..."

Alexander studied Sophia for a moment. "You do resemble how my mother looked when she was young."

Ethan subtly moved Sophia further behind him.

Sophia sighed. "I've studied classical paintings since childhood. Maybe it's the artistic temperament—"

"So did she," Alexander murmured. "She was accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting."

Silence settled between them.

As they reached the hospital entrance, they nearly collided with Victoria.

"Ethan!" she greeted warmly, though her expression cooled when she noticed Sophia.

Alexander's face darkened. "My mother doesn't want to see you."

"I'm her sister!" Victoria adjusted her shawl. "About Isabella—"

Ethan cut her off with a cold laugh. "Should she not have answered my call?"

"That's impossible!" Victoria's voice turned shrill.

Sophia tapped her phone. Isabella's affected voice played: "...What else would we be doing at that hour?"

Victoria paled.

"That's your 'innocent' daughter," Sophia said, putting her phone away. "Breaking into my husband's room in the middle of the night, then lying to stir up trouble."

Victoria opened her mouth, but no words came out.