Calvin fled for his life. Carmen chased him until, breathless, she lost sight of him in the distance. Frustrated, she tossed the kitchen knife to the ground, wiped her sweat-streaked face, and hailed a cab to the Fuller residence. The villa remained grand and imposing, a testament to their past as Khogend's wealthiest family. Despite recent turmoil, its opulence was undiminished.

Carmen hammered on the gate, repeatedly pressing the doorbell. "Is anyone there? Come out! I need to speak with the Fuller family! It's urgent!" she yelled. A maid finally appeared. Clinging to the iron gate, Carmen pleaded, her desperation evident. "I need to see Mr. and Mrs. Fuller! Let me in!"

"They're not home," the maid replied coolly. "Mr. Sebastian isn't here either. Perhaps you should try the Walsh family if it's urgent."

Carmen froze momentarily before leaping back into the cab. "To the Walsh residence," she instructed the driver.

The Fuller residence was draped in mourning. Clive had passed away, and the family was observing his funeral. Carmen hesitated at the somber white decorations but pressed on. She had no choice; alone, she was powerless to save Felicia.

She banged on the gate, her eyes burning with urgency. "I need to see Mr. and Mrs. Fuller! Let me in!" she yelled. A maid emerged to assess the situation and, unable to decide, went to inform the family.

Inside the memorial hall, Myra sobbed uncontrollably. The youngest Walsh daughter, she had always been her father's darling. Clive had cherished her, raising her as his heir. He'd hoped she would inherit the Harmony Medical Center, but Myra had no interest in medicine, preferring to pursue her beauty business. This led to a bitter estrangement. Their rift deepened after Myra married Dexter, and she rarely visited the Walsh residence afterward. Stubbornness on both sides prevented reconciliation, and over the years, their relationship faded to a faint memory, leaving only regrets.

Myra knelt before Clive's photograph, tears streaming down her face as childhood memories resurfaced—his strong hand holding hers, his arms lifting her in laughter, the warmth of his embrace. "I shouldn't have been so stubborn," she choked out. "I shouldn't have ignored you all these years. I shouldn't have let my anger keep us apart... Dad, I'm so, so sorry..."

Sobs punctuated her words. Since learning of Clive's death three days prior, Myra hadn't stopped crying, even fainting twice from the emotional strain.

Kayla remained close, soothing her gently. "Mom, please don't cry anymore. Grandpa wouldn't want to see you like this. He loved you." Myra clung to her daughter, weeping into her shoulder.

At that moment, the maid returned. "There's someone outside asking for Mr. and Mrs. Fuller. She says it's urgent."

Dexter and Sebastian were occupied with mourners. Myra, still distraught, weakly asked, "Who is it?"

The maid shook her head. "I'm not sure. A young woman claiming to be a friend of Ms. Felicia. She insists on speaking to you and Mr. Fuller personally."

"A friend of Felicia?" Myra showed little reaction, still consumed by grief. But Kayla's expression sharpened, her eyes narrowing as her mind raced, a flurry of thoughts and schemes crossing her face.