Maeve held onto a sliver of hope, her fingers trembling as she reached under Jaylen's nose. Jaylen was no longer breathing. He had truly passed away. Jaylen, who that morning had told her he was going to see the lake scenery, was now in her arms, cold and lifeless.

"You're lying," she cried. "You didn't even drink the coffee..." Repressed sobs rang out in the small parlor, gradually escalating into heartbroken wailing. The drops of coffee spilled on the corner of the table fell faster. Only the coffee at Jaylen's feet seemed still. The miracle doctor ultimately failed to drink the cup of coffee brewed by his sweetheart.

In Greenhaven Hospital, the Chatterly family rushed in overnight after receiving the notification. They confirmed with the doctor that Jaylen was dead. Mrs. Chatterly was so distraught she nearly fainted. Others surrounded Maeve, questioning how Jaylen could have died on what seemed a perfectly normal trip.

"I'm sorry," Maeve bowed, her voice hoarse as she explained everything that had happened the previous night, and Jaylen's long illness.

The Chatterly family didn't believe her. The doctor said Jaylen died of illness, but he had been healthy at Charles's birthday bash not long ago! Betty, beside herself with grief over her son's death, grabbed Maeve's shoulders, accusing her of hiding something.

Maeve endured the pain, her eyes wet and red, silently accepting the Chatterly family's anger and accusations. "Jaylen's assistant is here," a deep, cold voice said from behind her. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask him."

Maeve turned, seeing Byron approaching with Archer and Daryl. Still wearing sunglasses, he walked slowly, refusing assistance, steadily and purposefully toward Maeve. "Maeve, come to me," Byron said in a deep voice. He spoke little, but Maeve understood: Don't be afraid, leave it to me.

Maeve's eyes stung. She quickly moved behind Byron, clutching his sleeve. Daryl sobbed, explaining Jaylen's long illness to the Chatterly family, and how he'd hidden it to avoid saddening them. If not for Maeve's persuasion, he'd planned to die alone, unseen by his family. He never truly felt he belonged to the Chatterly family, perhaps because he'd been studying medicine under Rudolf since childhood.

Betty felt a knife twisting in her heart. Clutching her chest, she was speechless. After a long while, she seemed calmer, but her eyes blazed with anger at Maeve. "Ms. Reese, thank you for informing us. We're burying Jaylen in Kleymond. Please... don't appear for the time being." She knew her son's death wasn't Maeve's fault, but needed an outlet for her grief.

A trace of hurt flickered in Maeve's eyes. She said nothing, tacitly agreeing to Mrs. Chatterly's request. After the Chatterly family left, Daryl followed. Only Maeve and Byron remained in the corridor.

Byron held Maeve's cold hand, frowning. As he was about to ask why her hands were so cold, he heard suppressed sobs. He paused, pulling Maeve into his arms, his palm gently rubbing her head.

"Jaylen died because of me," Maeve choked out. "If I hadn't invited him to the celebration banquet, he wouldn't have had food poisoning, wouldn't have worn himself out saving people. He could have lived longer—a year, two years, or more. It's all my fault. He never even saw Greenhaven's lake scenery, and he never will."

"Byron, I killed him. I'm the murderer..." Maeve buried her face in his chest, cold, wet tears tracing paths down his shirt.

Byron's throat tightened, frustration surging. If he could see her face, he wouldn't need to guess her expression. He wouldn't feel restrained in comforting her. Suppressing his anger, he slowly released Maeve, lowering his head. "Do you really think so?"

Maeve sobbed, unable to answer. That's what she believed: If I hadn't invited Jaylen, he wouldn't have died tonight. He should have been resting in his hotel room. He only came to see my exhibition.

"Rationally," Byron said, "even without tonight's accident, Jaylen wouldn't have lived more than a year. That's the medical team's conclusion. Even then, he'd need an intubation device daily, confined to a hospital bed." Maeve's eyes widened in shock. "How?"

Maeve was speechless, thinking: Intubated, lying in bed every day... a torture worse than death.

"This is the price of defying fate," Byron said calmly. "He accepted my help, but didn't truly care. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to Greenhaven with you. Maeve, I'm not trying to comfort you. Consider this: would he, so uninhibited, choose a life as a walking corpse or a carefree death?"

Maeve's mind was a whirlwind. "I don't know. I don't want to think about it..."

Byron's tone deepened. "Maeve, don't run away."

Maeve Reese clasped his wrist tightly, closing her eyes. She recalled Jaylen's coughing up blood, comas, and hospitalizations since returning to the country. Despite his illness, he'd researched the antidote for the mutant Xasia variant for her. All the signs showed he didn't care about his life. And since coming to Greenhaven, he'd offered to be her assistant, following her everywhere. The clues had been there all along.

He was Dr. Chatterly, the miracle doctor who saved lives on a whim, a solitary, unrestrained man, unbound by anything. How could he possibly lie there and wait to die?

"But he died right in front of me," Maeve sobbed, unable to accept it. Grabbing Byron's lapels, she cried until she gasped for breath. "Byron, he died in my arms! One moment he was saving people, the next..."

Byron was accustomed to life and death. Aside from Maeve and Will, few tugged at his heartstrings. Especially not given Maeve's feelings for Jaylen. It was good enough that Byron hadn't stabbed Jaylen again to be sure he was dead. And if not for Maeve, he wouldn't have even glanced at the Chatterly family, let alone bring Daryl to clear up their doubts.