Kayla and Talia quickly agreed on a plan. Kayla's idea seemed flawless, and Talia immediately dispatched someone to retrieve Roberta from the sanatorium. Everything was prepared.

But to their surprise, Felicia, a regular weekend visitor, didn't arrive. Kayla stared at the half-empty glass of poisoned juice. The plan was simple: Roberta would offer Felicia the juice upon her arrival. They had to ensure Felicia drank it, but now she wasn't coming. Only a small amount of poison remained.

Furious, Kayla leaped to her feet. "What did Grandpa say? Didn't he call Felicia? Why isn't she here?" Had their plan been discovered?

Talia, in a fit of rage, slapped Roberta. "Speak! Did you warn Felicia?"

Roberta endured the blow silently, her eyes devoid of light.

Kayla sneered. "Don't worry, Talia. Look at her; she's too heartbroken over her mother's death to have betrayed us."

Talia scoffed, grabbing Roberta's hair. "You should be grateful. If it weren't for my mercy, you'd be dead. I spared your life, and you both have lived these extra years."

Roberta remained silent, despite the pain. Though alive, her spirit was broken; a puppet devoid of hope.

Talia released her, finding no satisfaction in tormenting an unresponsive victim. "Get out of my sight. Come back when I need you!" Roberta moved sluggishly, dragging herself away.

Kayla, deep in thought, was unwilling to abandon their opportunity. "Have you found out where Felicia is? Why didn't she come to the Walsh residence today?"

Ironically, they had recently wished Felicia would never return. Now her absence left them restless and desperate.

Talia sent someone to investigate and learned Clive had left for a house call early that morning, taking Felicia with him.

Talia cursed. "That fool! Of all days for a house call, he chooses today? And why take Felicia? He could have gone alone!" They had squandered a perfect opportunity.

Kayla, while sharing her frustration, reassured Talia. "No need to rush. It's still early. Grandpa might bring Felicia back for lunch. We'll get our chance."

In a minivan, Felicia asked Clive, "Grandpa, is this patient a tricky case? You've been frowning."

"Very tricky. He traveled from another city. I treated him in Khogend, but the illness returned." Clive sighed. "In my years of practice, this is the first time I've seen such a strange condition."

"What kind of condition?" Felicia asked.

"You'll see."

The car arrived at a five-star hotel. Felicia followed Clive inside, along with senior physicians and assistants. They took the elevator to the top floor. The presidential suite door stood ajar; a soft groan emanated from within. Felicia hesitated before entering with Clive.

A young, wealthy man lay on the bed, his face masked. But those details were secondary.