Chapter 601

The morning sun slanted through the blinds, casting stripes of light on the sterile white walls of the hospital room.

Vivian Bennett opened her eyes.

Her pupils were unfocused, as if veiled by a thin mist.

Sophia Miller and Grace Harper practically jumped up from the visitor chairs at the same time.

"Vivian, you're awake?" Sophia forced a smile, her voice deliberately bright. "Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I'll go get something."

Grace also leaned in, taking Vivian's cold hand. "You look much better today. The doctor said you're recovering well."

Vivian didn't respond.

She just lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

Her gaze was empty, as if her soul had already departed, leaving only a hollow shell behind.

Sophia and Grace exchanged a look.

Both their eyes held poorly concealed worry.

From the moment the surgery ended yesterday until now, Vivian hadn't spoken a single word.

No crying, no outbursts, no questions.

Not even a single tear had fallen.

This deathly silence was more unnerving than any hysterics.

"I'll get some water." Grace stood up, her movements slightly flustered.

Sophia cleared her throat, desperately searching for a topic. "Oh, right. Yesterday the nurse mentioned the vase in your room needs fresh flowers. I'll go to the florist downstairs later. What flowers do you like? Lilies? Or—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Because Vivian still wasn't looking at her.

Sophia's throat tightened.

She couldn't stand this oppressive atmosphere.

The entire room felt like all the air had been sucked out. Every breath was heavy, suffocating.

She abruptly stood up and walked to the television.

"Let's watch some TV. A little noise might be good."

She pressed the remote.

The screen lit up.

A female host on an entertainment channel was broadcasting the latest gossip in an exaggerated tone.

"Last night, wealthy heir Liam Sullivan was photographed spending the night with his first love, Luna Clark. The two were seen in intimate embrace in a hotel room, disheveled, in a steamy scene—"

Sophia's pupils constricted.

She saw the photo that popped up on the screen.

Liam Sullivan's face was clearly visible.

He held Luna Clark in his arms. They were collapsed on a bed, several buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his collarbone.

The background was the warm lighting of a hotel room.

Ambiguous. Intimate.

The headline blared in bold, glaring letters: [Heir Sullivan Dumps Fiancée, Finds New Love the Same Night! Lavish Engagement Likely Scrapped!]

Sophia's hand jerked.

The remote clattered to the floor.

She hurriedly bent to pick it up, fingers trembling, fumbling several times before managing to turn off the TV.

The screen went dark.

The room plunged back into dead silence.

Sophia turned stiffly.

Grace stood by the bed holding a water glass, her face pale as a sheet.

Both women looked at Vivian.

Vivian's gaze remained fixed on the now-black television screen.

Her face showed no expression.

No shock, no anger, no sorrow.

Not even her eyelashes fluttered.

Sophia's heart pounded wildly.

She wasn't sure if Vivian had actually seen it.

Maybe she had just glanced casually.

Maybe she hadn't even registered what it was.

Otherwise—

How could she be this calm?

"Vivian…" Grace's voice trembled.

Vivian slowly turned her head.

Her vacant eyes settled on Sophia's face.

Sophia's throat felt dry. She managed a strained smile. "That… it's all fabricated nonsense. The media loves to sensationalize. Don't take it seriously."

Vivian didn't speak.

She looked back at the ceiling.

As if nothing had just happened.

Sophia and Grace exchanged another glance.

Both saw panic mirrored in the other's eyes.

"You stay with her," Sophia whispered urgently. "I need to make a call."

Grace nodded, tightening her grip on the water glass.

Sophia hurried out of the room. The moment the door closed behind her, a cold sweat broke out on her back.

The hallway was empty.

She pulled out her phone, fingers shaking as she found Oliver Winston's number.

She dialed.

It rang three times before he answered.

"Hello?" Oliver's voice sounded weary.

"What's with the news?" Sophia hissed through gritted teeth, suppressing her fury. "Where is Liam Sullivan? Does he even know Vivian almost died? And now this scandal? What the hell is he doing?"

Silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"We haven't found him yet," Oliver's voice was low. "But we have leads. We'll find him soon. The news was deliberately leaked. Don't let Vivian know. She can't handle any more shocks right now."

Sophia bit her lip.

She didn't dare mention the TV incident.

"Vivian's condition is… not right," she said, her voice tight. "She won't speak a word. Her eyes are terrifyingly empty. I'm worried she might… do something. Get a psychologist here, fast. The best one."

"It's already being arranged," Oliver paused. "As for Liam… I'll find him as soon as possible. Please, take care of Vivian."

The call ended.

Sophia leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath.

At the far end of the hallway, a nurse pushed a treatment cart past. The sound of wheels rolling over the floor was unnaturally loud in the silence.

She glanced back at the hospital room door.

Through the glass window, she could see Grace sitting by the bed, speaking softly.

Vivian still lay with her eyes open.

Motionless.

Like a lifeless porcelain doll.

Sophia clenched her phone.

Her nails dug into her palm.

She remembered the photo on the TV.

Liam holding Luna.

Disheveled.

Ambiguous lighting.

The glaring headline.

If Vivian had really seen it—

If her lack of reaction wasn't indifference, but pain so deep she had gone numb, pain so profound she couldn't even express emotion anymore—

Sophia didn't dare think further.

She turned and headed for the nurses' station.

She had to get the doctor to check on Vivian again.

She had to make sure Vivian wouldn't do anything drastic.

Her footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Urgent. Panicked.

Like the frantic beating of her own heart.