Fabian remained silent. He couldn't afford the consequences. "If I lose this project, I might as well die!"

"Ree, that's not what your father meant. We're just worried about your safety," Maria said, despite her own apprehension.

Rhea smiled coldly. "Safety? When I was four, Anastasia and I fell into the pond, and you saved her first. Did you ever care about my safety?"

"You..." Maria was shocked Rhea remembered. "We didn't mean to save her first. Tasia was closer to the bank. We saved you too. You—"

"Enough. I wasn't complaining. I'm alive, aren't I?" Rhea shrugged calmly, setting down her cutlery. "I'm full."

Maria was stunned.

Rhea rose and went to the foyer to change her shoes. She lowered her head as she put on her heels, then looked up. "Oh, yes, I made a deal with Cameron because it suited my needs. I didn't do it for you, so don't be grateful. And don't think I did it because I care, Mom!"

Maria was speechless. Watching her daughter leave, she called out her name.

Rhea didn't respond, leaving without a glance. The sound of a car starting and speeding away followed.

"Hmph!" Fabian angrily slammed his cutlery onto the table.

"Hey, you..." Maria began, but trailed off. She couldn't console herself, let alone her husband. She felt devastated.

She'd hoped to reconcile with her daughter, but things had regressed, perhaps worsened.

By the time Rhea reached the suburbs, darkness had fallen. The cloudy day and long drive had made her slightly late. She checked her watch, then looked up at the dilapidated hospital and spat, "What a horrible place! This dust! Thanks to Mike for choosing this location!"

Rhea entered the hospital. It was relatively empty; few people remained besides the night shift. Her arrival went unnoticed.

She paused before the morgue sign, stared intently, glanced inside, and took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but the air always felt cold, carrying the scent of decay, formalin, and disinfectant. Most people hated the smell, but she loved it. She found living people too complex, too self-serving. Dead people were more straightforward.

Rhea enjoyed her experiments. Seeing the changes in her lab data, the varied responses of viruses and germs in human bodies, she felt all organisms were equal.

Her gaze cold, she knocked. A soft voice instructed her to enter. Rhea adjusted her earpiece, opened the door, and stepped inside.