"Ms. Reese," one reporter asked, "what do you think of the internet revelations?"

Another reporter pressed, "Have you always known that Mr. McDaniel's fiancée, Lynn Anderson, is a man? Is there something between you that explains your close relationship? Do you know why Lynn is cross-dressing? Does he have a transvestite fetish, or other feelings about Mr. McDaniel?"

A third reporter added, "Ms. Reese, as Mr. McDaniel's ex-wife, you must know something about his sexual orientation. Please answer us..."

An overwhelming barrage of questions descended on Maeve. The crowd pressed in, making it nearly impossible for her to move. The feeling was indescribably suffocating.

Just then, a figure, moving with surprising speed, forcefully pushed aside the reporters and reached Maeve, supporting her unsteady body. "If anyone dares to take another step closer," he said coldly, "they will be sorry." As Tom escorted Maeve from the crowd, his gaze swept over the reporters, his honey-brown eyes radiating a chilling intensity. They froze, unable to advance. They felt as if a predatory beast had them in its sights; any closer approach would be met with dire consequences.

Tom prevented anyone from touching Maeve again and escorted her to a waiting car. Once the car door closed, the world fell silent.

Maeve rubbed her stinging ears. Her mind was a whirlwind. Before she could process the reporters' questions, she thanked Tom. "Mr. Hum," she said, "thank you so much. I wouldn't have escaped otherwise. I was terrified those reporters would overwhelm me."

Tom started the car and drove away. His face, partially hidden by a scarf, was expressionless, but his eyes were calm. "It's fine," he said. "It's my job to protect you."

Maeve was startled. When I hired Tom, she thought, did I specify protection?

Then she noticed her phone vibrating in her bag. The screen was filled with news notifications.

A wave of dread washed over Maeve. She clicked on a notification and was nearly speechless. The headline read: "[McDaniel Group President's Fiancée Is a Man Disguised as a Woman! Intimate Lunch with Ex-Wife Sparks Affair Rumors!]"

One photo showed Lynn looking unwell during their last lunch, with Maeve warming her hands. The angle was ambiguous, suggesting intimacy. The second picture was Lynn's medical report, revealing that Lynn was male.

Maeve was speechless. What the hell is this? Is it fake? How could Lynn be a man? Her feminine characteristics were so clear... Wait...

Maeve's grip on her phone tightened. She recalled noticing something odd about Lynn before, but hadn't investigated. Now, the details flooded back: Lynn's prominent Adam's apple and unusually flat chest.

A sense of absurdity washed over her. How is this possible? If Lynn is a man, why would Byron marry him?

Back at her apartment, Maeve ran directly to Byron's apartment. He opened the door, wearing a suit jacket. His gaze froze upon seeing her, his expression turning complex. She's been avoiding me, he thought.

"What's with the news? How can Miss Anderson be a man? Did the internet get it wrong?" Maeve asked, firing off a series of questions.

"It's true," Byron replied in a deep voice. "He's a man. His real name is Leon Anderson. Lynn is his twin sister."

Maeve was stunned. "Then why was he disguised as his younger sister...?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain later," Byron said, frowning. "The hospital just reported that Leon is missing."

His reaction confirmed that he knew the truth. Maeve's mind raced. She followed him subconsciously. "I'll go with you."

Byron nodded silently.

Half an hour later, at the sanatorium, the sunny sky turned dark. Maeve looked up and spotted a dark shadow at the edge of the rooftop. "Top floor!" she exclaimed, grabbing Byron's arm, and rushing to the elevator.

Byron followed quickly. The rooftop was windy, dim, and oppressive. A figure sat by the railing, wearing a white hospital gown, his face pale and his body swaying precariously.

"Lynn, don't!" Leon turned slowly, seeing Maeve running towards him. She stopped a few feet away, fearing she might agitate him. Byron and medical personnel followed.

"I'm not Lynn," Leon said blankly. "Lynn died a long time ago. She died saving me when we were eleven. Right in front of me." His voice cracked. "Why wasn't I the one who died? Why did a coward like me survive? Lynn must regret saving me."

His pupils dilated, his expression a mix of despair and self-loathing. Maeve noticed his trembling hand, bleeding. She seemed to understand his pain.

"The truly weak one is the one who says those things," Maeve stated calmly.

Byron looked at her thoughtfully.

"You're twins," Maeve continued. "You should know each other best. Your sister risked her life for you. Are you going to repay her sacrifice with self-destruction? Do you think her sacrifice meant nothing?"

Leon's expression crumbled. "No, L..."

"Do you love your sister?" Maeve raised her voice.

"Of course!" Leon exclaimed. "I'd trade my life for hers! We were each other's only family."

"Then what are you doing?" Maeve asked sharply. "Are you going to jump and dishonor her sacrifice? Are you letting her down?"

Leon was speechless.

Maeve softened her tone. "Think about it: if your sister were here, would she want you to suffer like this, or would she want you to live a good life, to make her death meaningful?"