Meanwhile, on the same quiet Sunday afternoon at the Neri household...
Lianna Neri stood still in the garden, staring blankly at the wilted peony flowers near the fence. The petals had shriveled into dry curls, and wild bushes crept over the once carefully-tended bed.
Considering the Neri household was one of the four richest families in the country, it wasn't that they couldn't afford gardeners. In fact, they employed several. But even the most skilled hand wouldn't lift a finger unless given the word by someone with power.
And Lianna Neri? In a house where she held no voice, the opinion of the "young madam of the house" meant just like these wilted flowers.
A few years ago, this sight would have broken her heart. Back then, she would've rushed to clear the weeds and nurture the peonies like they were her own children.
But now… she simply didn't care.
It wasn't laziness. It wasn't forgetfulness. It was something worse—resignation.
And yet, out of sheer habit, she bent down, picked up the watering can, and poured some water onto the cracked soil around the peonies.
No care in her movements. No hope. If they live, they live. If not, then they don't.
She had barely finished pouring when a sharp voice shattered the stillness like glass.
"Lianna!"
The screech stabbed the air. Lianna flinched before slowly turning.
Madam Neri stood by the glass doors, wrapped in a heavy shawl despite the warm sun, her expression twisted in disgust.
"You really are a heartless woman!" she spat, voice shrill. "My grandson is sick and here you are—gardening? What are you doing with dead flowers while your own child suffers?!"
Her lips curled as she pointed at the peonies.
"Have you ever wondered why nothing thrives under your hand? Look at yourself. You can't even manage your life, let alone a garden. I'm getting rid of these hideous things today!"
Lianna opened her mouth to respond, but the older woman had already barked an order at the nearest servant.
"Pull them out. All of them. Right now!"
The servants hesitated only briefly before obeying. They didn't even look at Lianna.
She blinked in confusion. Sick? She had just put her son down for a nap less than an hour ago. He was smiling, playing with his soft toy, humming a little song under his breath.
Madam Neri marched forward, face flushed with fury. "Hmph! Now that my son is back, you've started this pitiful act again?" she sneered. "You want us to pity you? Well, guess what—no one does! If you're so miserable, why don't you just divorce him? Oh, but that's right, you won't, will you? You cling to him like a parasite!"
Lianna didn't move. The pain of the words didn't sting anymore—not after years of hearing the same script in different tones. Sometimes whispered, sometimes shouted, but always the same meaning: You don't belong here.
She watched in silence as the servants yanked out the peonies one by one. The roots snapped. Dry petals scattered. The soil, disturbed, gave off a musty scent—like something being buried alive.
"You said he's sick?" she asked, voice flat, ignoring the tirade.
Madam Neri scoffed. "As if you care."
Just then, a small figure stepped out from the back door, wobbling slightly.
"Mother..." The boy's voice was weak. "I'm not feeling well..."
Her four-year-old son stood in the sunlight, his little frame wobbling. His cheeks were pale, his lips dry, and angry red blotches spread across his neck and arms.
She stepped forward, panic rising.
Allergies.
Before she could get close, the old woman shoved past her and scooped the child up in her arms.
"What are you doing just standing there, staring like a fool?!" Madam Neri shrieked. "You want to hurt him? You want him to die? Go get the car! We're going to the hospital!"
Lianna bit her tongue. Her arms itched to hold her son, to check him, to reassure him. But her fingers curled into fists.
She turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the driveway, her thoughts racing. 'Allergic to peaches... He's allergic to peaches.'
Everyone in the house knew. It was printed on every medical file, posted on the fridge, and told to every kitchen staff and servant since he was a baby.
She never allowed peaches in the house—not fresh, not dried, not in jam or cake or candy.
But ever since Madam Neri moved in 'to supervise,' peaches had started appearing again. A box in the kitchen. A few slices in a fruit salad. A cake delivered by one of her friends. Always with the same excuse: "Oh, I forgot. It won't hurt to have a few around as long as Sean doesn't eat it."
She gritted her teeth as she reached the car. The driver, lounging by the garage wall, straightened upon seeing her.
"Hospital," she said sharply. "Now."
As the engine started and the car rolled into motion, Lianna clenched her hands tighter in her lap. There was no point in crying. No point in yelling.
She was too tired for that.
---
The hospital entrance burst open with a bang as the family car screeched to a stop.
Immediately, two nurses rushed to the vehicle. Their calm demeanor shifted the second they recognized the figure stepping out from the backseat—Madam Neri, cradling her blotchy-skinned grandson like a national treasure.
"Emergency Room! Now!" the old woman barked. "My grandson has a bad allergic reaction! Move!"
The hospital staff snapped to attention. Everyone knew the Neris. After all, this very hospital bore their family's name engraved on its marble walls. Funded, owned, and quietly controlled by the Neri estate for decades.
The child was swiftly whisked into the ER. Doctors and nurses buzzed around like bees to a hive. Machines beeped. A wheelchair was rolled in, then abandoned.
Voices overlapped in hurried instructions.
Outside the ER, Lianna stood at a distance, hands clenched tightly, watching through the small glass window. Her heart pounded, both in fear and anger. She knew exactly what caused this.
During lunch, Madam Neri helped herself to a generous slice of peach pie—but she made a show of ignoring it, so long as Sean didn't have any.
Later, Lianna tucked the child into bed for his afternoon nap. She suspected Sean had been tempted and had secretly tasted the pie when no one was looking.
"You couldn't even watch the child?!" Madam Neri snapped, her voice sharp with venom. "Do you want to kill my grandson? Is that it? What did you feed him for lunch? Knowing I like peaches, you planned this—you schemed to pin the blame on me. You're truly vicious!"
Lianna said nothing. Her eyes remained fixed on the small figure being attended to inside the room.
"Lianna, this little plan of yours won't work," the old woman hissed. "You think you'll earn sympathy by harming your own child? Pathetic."
Just then, the sharp click of polished shoes echoed down the corridor.
Zahn Neri entered—tall, composed, his white doctor's coat still perfectly buttoned. His presence cut through the tension like a knife.
The hospital staff followed closely behind him with the reverent discipline of soldiers trailing a commanding officer.
He looked at the scene before him—his mother fuming, his wife silent, and beyond the glass window, his son on a hospital bed surrounded by monitors and masked nurses.
"What happened?" Zahn asked, voice cold and clipped.
The moment Madam Neri saw him, her expression changed into one of carefully crafted grief. As if her savior had arrived. Her voice cracked with emotion as she grabbed his arm.
"Zahn, my poor grandson," she said, eyes brimming with crocodile tears. "She left him alone! She was in the garden, playing with weeds while leaving Sean unattended! He had a terrible reaction—and I was the one who found him! She didn't even notice!"
Lianna finally looked up. Her eyes met Zahn's. They were calm, but there was a fire building behind them.
"I didn't give him anything," she said quietly. "And I'm not the one who allows peaches in the house."
Madam Neri scoffed. "Excuses—that's all you ever have! You're lazy every single day, and you don't even look after your own child. Even with servants around, a mother should at least fulfill her role."
Zahn said nothing at first. His jaw was tight, his eyes unreadable. He glanced back at the ER doors, then at his wife and mother.
Tension hung so heavy in the corridor that even the nurses kept their distance.
"How did peaches end up in his system?" he asked, tone level.
"I don't know!" Madam Neri snapped, a little too quickly, her voice suddenly uncertain. "Peaches are always stored properly. I made sure of it. The staff know the rule!"
She looked desperate now, tugging at her shawl.
"Zahn, while you were gone on those missions, I've been the one watching over Sean. Taking him to school, overseeing his meals, his tutors—everything! How could I possibly harm my dear grandson? If I hadn't stepped in this time…"
Lianna remained still, like the accusations didn't belong to her at all.
Zahn's gaze shifted back and forth between them—his mother's frantic face, his wife's unreadable one.
"I'll look into this matter," he said finally. "Mom, I need a moment with Lianna."
Madam Neri's lips twitched. She hesitated, then turned away and disappeared down the hall.
For a brief moment, silence settled over them again.