Brett sat on the sofa, waiting quietly without eating lunch, until his phone rang at 1 o'clock.

He glanced at the screen, which showed an unknown number. He answered, "Hello?"

"Brett, I'm at the hospital now."

Brett's eyes darkened, and he said coldly, "Izabella, you finally remembered to call me?"

As soon as his words fell, the other side went silent. Brett's eyebrows twisted, his gaze deepened. "Which hospital are you in?"

Izabella replied, "Light of Hope Hospital."

"Izabella, you really don't take my words seriously!" This time, without waiting for her to answer, Brett hung up the call. He grabbed his phone and car keys, then left the house. Hospital.

Izabella's face was somewhat blank. After a while, she put down her phone, the screen had already gone dark.

With a hint of gloom between her eyebrows, Izabella knitted them together, only for a shadow to suddenly loom overhead. She looked up at Presley approaching her.

"Done with the call?" Presley asked.

"Yeah," Izabella nodded and handed the phone back to him.

Presley looked at the phone and asked, "What did he say?"

Izabella shook her head and pretended to be calm. "It's all good, don't worry."

Presley moved a chair over and sat down, his face darkened. "How can I not worry when I see your injuries?"

"Presley, he'll come pick me up later."

Presley suddenly fell silent, the ward so quiet that only their breathing could be heard.

It seemed as if Izabella was lost in thought about something. After a long while, she came back to her senses, "Presley, you should leave."

She looked up with a faint smile on her lips, her eyes as gentle as sunlight. "If you really care for me, leave me. Don't get close to me or antagonize Brett... I promise you, I'll be alright before my illness worsens."

It was her illness, not Brett, that could kill her.

Guilt flickered in Izabella's eyes. Presley had been injured by Brett last time, and she hadn't had a chance to apologize, fearing it would only fuel the flames.

Ever since then, she hadn't even dared to call Presley for fear of dragging him down further.

"Last time, it was my fault you hurt your arm."

Presley dismissed her concerns. "That had nothing to do with you."

Even so, Izabella still felt guilty. She looked at his hand. "Will there be any complications?"

Presley was a surgeon, so his hands couldn't be injured.

"It's been fine. It was just a dislocation that hurt for a couple of days once it was put back in place. See for yourself." He waved his hand to show Izabella. Even now, she was still frightened by what happened. She used to think that Brett was just possessive, but now she realized that he was really insane. Izabella changed the subject. "Can you give me a few more bottles of medicine, and put them in different bottles?"

Presley got up. "I'll get them for you. About your illness, though, are you still planning to hide it from Brett?"

The smile that had been on Izabella's lips gradually turned bitter. "You've seen how he treats me. He won't care whether I'm sick or not. Besides, I've lied to him once before, and he won't believe me again." After listening to her, Presley turned to get her medicine. Izabella leaned against the bed and watched a bird fly by outside - a dove landed on a thin branch that couldn't bear its weight and swayed in the air. The dove didn't fly away. Instead, it continued to stand there, swaying like a swing. Izabella stared with a contemplative expression.

Birds believe not in the branches they can perch on, but in the wings that let them fly. If you want to live a good life, you must not rely on others.

Presley brought her two bottles containing newly developed anti-cancer drugs and two bottles of strong painkillers. The anti-cancer drugs were put in ordinary stomach medicine bottles, while the painkillers were put into supplement bottles.

"Take the same dosage as usual."

"Thank you," Izabella replied as she opened the bottles to confirm. "How much do I owe you?"

"The medicine is a gift from me. We've known each other for so many years, and I still can't even help you a little bit when you're struggling like this now."

"No..."

Presley patted her head, "Listen to me, I can only give you medicine now given your circumstances. Everything else, you have to rely on yourself."

Tears welled up in the corners of Izabella's eyes. She took a deep breath to suppress the feeling. "Thank you."

She was deeply moved that someone still cared for her in the last year of her life and gave her the slightest warmth.

Presley was always especially kind to her, staying with her longer than even her father and brother over the past twenty-some years. He made up for her lack of affection as a family. Sometimes, Izabella couldn't help but wonder... Why wasn't Presley her real brother?

Izabella wasn't a pretentious person, so she took the medication. "Presley, I've thought it through."

"About what?"

"I want Brett to fall in love with me."

Presley was confused, completely unable to follow Izabella's train of thought. He knew what he should and shouldn't say, however, he couldn't help but want to prod Izabella further. "Izabella, are you still in love with Brett?"

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