"Who is William?" Grandma asked, emerging from her room and hobbling toward Diana with the support of her cane.
"Ivy, is William your husband?"
"Grandma, your memory is slipping again," Noah said, quickly rushing out to support her. "William isn't my brother-in-law's brother; he's my actual, official brother-in-law."
Grandma turned her gaze toward Penelope, who was packing her bag. "Oh, so William is your husband."
Penelope looked absolutely terrified, waving her hands frantically. "No, no, no! Grandma, please spare me! I'm not that lucky. A high-and-mighty figure like William Knight is someone I'd have to look up at until my neck snapped. With my 'flat-as-a-board' figure, I'd look like a telephone pole standing in front of him. I wouldn't dare dream of catching the eye of the Knight Family Heir—he's strictly into stunning, curvaceous beauties."
Grandma was completely bewildered by the younger generation's chatter. Her mind, already moving like rusted gears, ground to a halt.
Exactly whose husband was this William?
The question circled in Grandma's chaotic thoughts like a bird wheeling over a desolate field.
It wasn't until Penelope left that Grandma stared at Diana's exceptionally beautiful face and suddenly slapped her own leg in realization. "William... he's your husband, right?"
Diana offered a gentle smile. "Yes, Grandma."
Grandma peered out the window with a look of hope in her eyes. "What does he look like? Can I see him with my own eyes before I kick the bucket?"
Noah chimed in from the side. "Yeah, sis, there's no time like the present. Why don't you give him a call?"
Diana bit her lip and glanced at the time. 4:30 PM—peak hours for a corporate titan.
She thought of William's almost inhuman schedule—returning home in the dead of night and vanishing again by dawn. The man practically lived for his work.
But meeting Grandma's cloudy, expectant eyes, the refusal on the tip of her tongue dissolved.
"I'll... send him a WhatsApp message and see."
She tapped on that dark, imposing profile picture. Her finger hesitated before typing two words: [Are you there?]
The moment she hit send, she regretted it. The opening was as dry as a stale cracker. Just as she was about to unsend it, the screen lit up. He replied instantly: [No.]
Diana nearly laughed from the sheer frustration, her fingers flying across the screen: [Then am I talking to a ghost across dimensions right now?]
William: [Perhaps.]
The curve of Diana's lips deepened involuntarily: [Big shot, are you busy?]
William: [Busy.]
One simple word was like a bucket of cold water, drenching the courage Diana had just mustered.
Since he was busy, mentioning a small thing like visiting a patient would seem inconsiderate—as if she were causing him unnecessary trouble.
Diana locked her screen and set the phone down with a trace of disappointment.
"Is the big boss swamped? Can't make it?" Noah asked.
"He's in the middle of a cross-border political and business summit. He can't get away," Diana improvised a reason.
Noah tutted. "High school seniors work 6 AM to 9 PM, but this guy is 6 AM to midnight. The elite life is no joke."
Diana shot him a look. "Without that 'elite life' hustle, do you think our luxury villa and multi-million dollar supercars just fell from the sky?"
"Right, right. We're all living off the Knight Family Heir's blood, sweat, and tears," Noah said, making a zipping motion over his lips.
Hearing that William was occupied with his career, Grandma's eyes held a hint of disappointment, but she was understanding enough not to bring it up again.
Night fell, and the nursing home room became exceptionally quiet. Diana and Noah were curled up on the guest beds on either side of the room.
Before long, Noah drifted off, his snoring so loud it sounded like thunder, making the windowpanes seem to rattle.
Grandma, however, plagued by years of chronic insomnia, quietly rose in the middle of the night. She stood alone by the window, a solitary figure gazing at the lonely moon hanging in the trees, looking desolate.
Diana wasn't sound asleep. She rose quietly, took a thick shawl, and wrapped it securely around the old woman's shoulders.
"The moon is so full tonight," Grandma murmured.
It was a day meant for reunions, yet it was also the deepest scar in the old woman's heart.
Diana sighed softly. "Grandma, you're thinking about Ivy again."
"I just want to know if Ivy met good people... if she's still out there, drawing breath."
A hot, heavy tear fell onto the back of Diana's hand. The temperature was startling, sending a jolt through Diana's heart.
"Grandma, what happened back then wasn't your fault. The ones who deserve to be condemned are the human traffickers, not you, the victim who suffers day and night. All these years, Noah and I have never blamed you for a single moment. We love you, so please, try to forgive yourself, okay?"
Logic was like a fine rain, but it struggled to nourish a heart so parched by guilt. Every night, the tide of regret would surge, drowning Grandma's reason.
Diana didn't push any further; she simply held the old woman's shoulders and handed her a tissue.
Gradually, Grandma stopped sobbing. Looking at her gentle granddaughter, she felt a pang of guilt. She didn't want to keep dumping her negative energy on Diana; she wanted this girl to live a life free of burdens.
Grandma steadied her weary body and walked to the table, fumbling for her medication.
"Didn't you take it at dinner? Can you take more?" Diana asked worriedly.
"It's fine. The doctor said if the emotional distress is too much, I can take an extra sedative."
The medicine kicked in quickly, and Grandma's agitation smoothed out.
She took Diana's hand and lowered her voice. "Diana, tell me the truth. Is that husband of yours good to you?"
It was a hard question to define. For someone who had once struggled on the poverty line, Diana answered honestly: "The money he gives me is enough to last several lifetimes."
"But... is there any affection between you?"
Diana fell silent.
Who was William Knight? He was the pinnacle of the Knight family power, a precision-engineered business machine without emotional redundancy. Perhaps his marriage only required a respectable ornament, not a passionate love.
"Grandma, let me brew you a cup of that Souchong tea Penelope brought. It'll warm your stomach."
Avoiding the unanswerable question, Diana grabbed the thermos and hurried out of the room.
The water room was filled with steam. Distracted, she held the mouth of the thermos under the tap and jerked the handle open.
A scalding torrent roared down, not only filling the pot but splashing a large amount of boiling water directly onto her foot, which was exposed in her open-toed slippers.
"Ngh—"
A sharp, searing pain instantly shot through her nerves. Diana stumbled back.
Just as she attempted to brave the steam to turn off the tap, a well-defined, impeccably manicured hand reached out as if from thin air and firmly gripped her wrist.
The palm was burning hot, carrying the innate authority of a man used to being in control.
The man pulled back forcefully, dragging her away from the dangerous spray. Diana crashed into a chest as solid as iron, her senses instantly invaded by the scent of cold, high-end cologne mixed with a faint hint of tobacco.
Startled, she looked up into a pair of unfathomable eyes. "Mr. Knight?"
A deep, low "Mm" vibrated from William's throat. Through his shirt, Diana could feel his steady, powerful heartbeat, making her entire side feel weak.
He released her wrist and stepped forward, efficiently shutting off the sputtering tap.
The floor was covered in scalding water, but he acted as if he didn't see it, reaching out to grab the hot handle of the thermos.
"Mr. Knight, it's hot!" Diana cried out.
William turned his head, the corner of his lip curling into a thin, dangerously charming arc. "This temperature isn't enough to hurt me."
He walked a few steps with the thermos before noticing the girl behind him was limping. He looked down, his gaze catching the stinging crimson mark on her foot.
William's brow instantly knitted into a tight knot. He set the thermos down and turned back, an overwhelming aura of pressure following him.
"Why didn't you say you were burned?"
Diana bit her lip, trying to use his own words against him. "This little thing isn't enough to hurt me."
"It's as red as a cooked shrimp, and you call that 'nothing'?"
Before she could blink, he suddenly leaned down, swept her up in his arms, and lifted her into a bridal carry.
The sudden weightlessness made Diana gasp. The muscles in the man's arms were taut and hard, but they also gave her an unprecedented sense of security.
William carried her through the quiet corridor, the sound of his leather shoes striking the floor with a steady, commanding rhythm in the middle of the night.
He placed her gently on a chair in the dressing room, then, without a shred of ego, he dropped to one knee at her feet.
He reached out, intending to lift her heel.
Diana instinctively curled her toes, feeling flustered. "There are doctors on duty at the home, you don't need to trouble yourself..."
William rested one arm on his knee and looked up at her, his dark eyes filled with a trace of scrutiny. "Don't trust my skills?"
"No."
It was just that a man at the top of the pyramid shouldn't be kneeling on the floor touching her foot for such a minor injury.
Diana's face turned bright red as she blurted out an excuse: "I... I haven't washed my feet today."
"What does that matter?" William let out a light chuckle. His large hand took hold of her slender ankle with total dominance, firmly lifting her foot and resting it on his sharp, tailored trousers.
His burning palm pressed tightly against the sole of her foot while his other hand efficiently unscrewed the burn ointment.
"I can just wash my hands afterward."
His finger, dabbed with ointment, applied the cream with extreme tenderness to her swollen skin. His serious expression made it seem as though he were handling a multi-billion dollar contract.
"Compared to worrying about getting my hands dirty, I believe handling your injury immediately is much more important."