Chapter 36

In a moment, Hayden's footsteps faded, and the last of my hope shattered cruelly. Was I still wondering if he would leave? Did that even need questioning?

Soon, Marion arrived. "I'll get the doctor for you," he said, sensing my low spirits and avoiding mention of Hayden.

After a while, the doctor examined me. "Mrs. Parker, to be blunt, your body is very weak. You need proper nutrition, and more exercise. Otherwise..." He trailed off, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I understand," I said. I knew this, yet deep sadness made it hard to prioritize my health. But Marion was right; I was pushing myself too hard. But I couldn't collapse—not before the divorce.

The doctor left with the nurse.

Marion then entered with breakfast and my medication. "Eat something before taking your medication," he said, setting up a small tray table.

"You haven't left yet?" I asked, surprised. We weren't close, and this seemed unusual.

"I'm free today," Marion replied simply, quickly pouring soup into a bowl. "You need to eat; you can't take anything else right now!"

I glanced at the plain soup, warmth filling my chest despite my lack of appetite. I forced myself to eat.

Noticing I was feeling better, Marion asked, "Did Zachary's people contact you?"

My eating stopped.

Without waiting for my answer, Marion continued, "He wants to oust Hayden, and you're his first target."

I wiped my mouth, looking at Marion with newfound respect. "You seem to know a lot about Parker Group. Did Zachary approach you too?"

Marion nodded.

"Did you agree?" I asked quickly.

Marion hesitated, his expression somber.

"It seems you're not interested in teaming with him either," I observed, noting his unease. Zachary was brilliant but manipulative. Teaming up risked everything. Marion was smart and wouldn't be easily manipulated.

"Zachary is back, and he'll be coming to see you soon," Marion said suddenly.

I furrowed my brows—one thing after another.

Just then, Lucy appeared. "Yvonne! What's wrong? Why are you so pale?" she exclaimed, rushing towards me, tears in her eyes.

"I'm fine. Didn't I tell you not to come?" I patted her back, trying to comfort her. I'd told her I was in the hospital, and she came anyway. My friend was definitely more reliable than Hayden.

"How could I not come when you're this sick?" Lucy wiped her eyes. "Why have you lost weight again? Is that jerk Hayden giving you a hard time?"

"No, I just have a fever," I said, not wanting to worry her. But Lucy looked ready to cry again, so I added, "Mr. Warner…"

Only then did she notice Marion. She gasped. "He's the one who gave you the…" Her voice trailed off.

"You have a good memory, Ms. Coffey," Marion smiled.

"Mr. Warner knows me?" Lucy asked, looking at me for confirmation.

I quickly shook my head, signaling it wasn't me.

Marion's smile remained. "You're Ms. Jackson's best friend. Of course I know."

Lucy chuckled. "Oh, it's because of Yvonne. I knew you were here looking after her. I wouldn't have come to bother you two."

"Lucy," I stopped her, signaling her to say no more.

"I mean, you're much more dependable than Hayden, Mr. Warner. He didn't come, did he? That ungrateful jerk… I need to figure out what tricks Joanna used to charm him," Lucy ranted.

I felt awkward, but Marion didn't seem to mind.

Around noon, Rita arrived. Lucy didn't stay long, and I asked Marion to leave with her. My fever had subsided, and I felt much better.

That night, I returned home to Rosy House. In the living room sat a brand-new grand piano, black and white, modern and artistic.

"Who bought this?" I asked Rita, curious.

"It seems to be Mr. Hayden Parker. It was delivered this afternoon, but we haven't figured out where to put it yet. We can decide after you feel better," Rita replied.

After a day in the hospital, I felt surprisingly refreshed. The piano was my only solace, and seeing it brought me joy.

I touched the piano's smooth finish; it was incredibly valuable. Instinctively, I sat down and rested my hands on the keys. I had to play.

Rita smiled. "Would you like to try?"

"Yes," I nodded. A little tune popped into my head—a piece composed by my mother, known only to us. I'd played it while caring for Hayden abroad.

The melody flowed from my fingertips, filling the room.

Rita was captivated, surprised by my skill.

Deborah, about to sleep, also heard the music and sat up. She called to a servant, "Who's playing the piano?"

"It's Mrs. Yvonne Parker," the servant replied.

"Yvonne? I didn't expect her to have this talent," Deborah admitted, seeing Yvonne in a new light. She'd thought Yvonne rash and careless, not expecting such a delicate side. She'd read about Yvonne's piano playing but hadn't believed it until now.

Many night-shift servants also heard and were absorbed in the music. They rarely had time to appreciate such things.

Meanwhile, Hayden's car pulled up outside.