We were hugging happily when Evan's phone suddenly rang. I was caught off guard and a bit unsettled, but Evan quickly pulled away and took his phone out of his jacket pocket.
"Sorry, Lucia," he said, glancing at the screen. "This might be important."
He stepped back a bit, and I could see his face grow serious as he answered the call. His tone shifted to formal and cautious as he began speaking.
"Hello," Evan's voice echoed from a distance. "What's going on? I'm at a crucial location right now."
I tried to move closer, but Evan gave me a look that clearly told me to stay put. I felt a pang of anxiety, especially since his conversation sounded so secretive and tense. I stood by the grave, trying not to eavesdrop, but my curiosity got the better of me.
"Is the situation ready?" Evan asked, his voice serious. "I need to know what the next step is."
I couldn't make out everything the person on the other end of the phone was saying, but the urgency in their voice was clear. Phrases like "the plan is almost complete" and "no mistakes can be made" stood out.
Evan frowned, listening intently. "I'll take care of it. Make sure nothing gets overlooked. We can't let this leak to outsiders."
After several minutes of focused conversation, Evan finally hung up. He turned to me with an expression that was hard to read, a blend of worry and resolve.
"I'm sorry, Lucia," he said, stepping closer again. "There's some urgent business I need to handle. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to get this sorted."
I nodded, feeling a bit confused but trying to grasp the situation. "Sure, Evan. I understand. But is everything okay?"
Evan forced a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just need to make sure everything goes smoothly."
He took my hand and gently kissed my forehead before heading towards his car. I stood there, watching him leave, a mix of curiosity and concern swirling inside me.
After Evan left, I felt a gnawing unease. It seemed like something was left unresolved, and the tension in him made me even more curious. I decided to find out more about what was going on. Soon after, a pre-arranged driver arrived to pick me up.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Lucia," the driver greeted politely as I got into the car. "Where to?"
"I'd like to go to my apartment," I replied, trying to sound calm. However, my mind was already planning a different course of action.
During the drive, I subtly instructed the driver to take a slower route, hoping to follow Evan without being noticed. I was determined to track his whereabouts discreetly.
But something unexpected happened. As we made a few turns, I started to feel uneasy. The driver seemed to be taking a route that didn't match my usual path to the apartment.
"Why aren't we heading straight to my apartment?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "This route seems unusual."
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression calm. "There's been a slight change in the route, Mrs. Lucia. I'll make sure we get there safely."
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. As we continued down increasingly unfamiliar streets, I grew more cautious. I tried to observe the surroundings and check road signs, but my efforts to make sense of the situation seemed in vain.
Finally, the car stopped in front of an unfamiliar building. I got out and realized we were nowhere near my apartment. A wave of confusion and disappointment washed over me, and I felt a pang of betrayal.
"This isn't my apartment," I said, frustration evident in my voice. "Why are we here?"
The driver offered a polite but distant smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Lucia. I was just following the instructions I was given."
Frustration boiled inside me, but there was nothing I could do. I paid the driver, feeling a sense of defeat, and walked into the building with a mix of confusion and irritation. It felt like I had stumbled into something much larger and darker, and I was helplessly caught in the middle.
As I closed the door behind me, my mind raced with worry and questions. What was really going on? Why was Evan involved in something so secretive? And who could have orchestrated this deception? These questions swirled in my head, and I knew I needed to dig deeper to protect myself and those I care about.
********
Anxiety gripped me, making it impossible to calm down. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about Evan and the strange events that had just unfolded. I felt ensnared in a spiral of worry and overthinking, unable to sit still.
I started pacing in the living room, each step growing heavier. I grabbed the coat from the hook by the door, seeking some semblance of warmth and protection. Even though I had no clear destination, the urge to follow Evan and uncover the truth was overwhelming.
As I made the decision to leave the apartment, my mind raced with possibilities. I could head to places Evan might have gone, but without any concrete information, it seemed like a shot in the dark.
Determined to catch up with Evan, I ventured into the cold night air, my coat wrapped tightly around me. My heart pounded with worry as I walked the city streets, scanning every passing vehicle, hoping for a glimpse of Evan.
Without a clear direction, I relied on my instincts, staying alert for any signs or clues that might lead me to him. The uncertainty only heightened my anxiety, but I was resolute in my quest to find out what had really happened.
Each step felt heavier, and frustration gnawed at my mind. I had no clear destination or plan, but one thing was clear: I couldn't stop searching for Evan until I had answers.
The darkness of the night and the city's hustle and bustle became the backdrop for my anxious quest. I could only hope that my efforts would bring me closer to Evan and shed light on the mysteries surrounding him.
When I finally managed to get a taxi, anxiety surged. My phone buzzed, and with trembling hands, I saw a message that only contained a hospital name and a room number.
I instructed the driver to take me to the hospital. Every second of the ride felt like an eternity, and my mind raced with worry. Could this be connected to Evan?
Upon arriving at the hospital, I jumped out of the taxi and headed swiftly toward the registration desk. I tried to steady my nerves, but my heart raced.
"Excuse me, can you help me find out who is in ward number [room number]?" I asked, my voice betraying my anxiety.
The registration officer checked the list and looked at me with a thoughtful expression. "I'm sorry, but I can't disclose patient information without permission," he said politely.
"Is there any way I can find out more?" I pleaded, desperation evident in my voice.
The registration officer sighed. "I'll contact the nurse on duty for you. Please wait a moment."
I waited anxiously, my nerves fraying with each passing minute. Soon after, a nurse emerged from the ward and approached me.
"Sorry for the wait," the nurse said. "You can go in and see the patient in that room, but please remain calm. The patient is in a very critical condition."
With my heart pounding, I made my way toward the treatment room. Each step felt heavy, and I hoped against hope that this wasn't bad news about Evan.
I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, lit only by dim lights and the soft beeping of medical machines. The patient lay in bed, surrounded by equipment, with their face partially covered by a blanket.
I approached cautiously, trying to discern the patient's identity, but it wasn't immediately clear who was lying there. Anxiety and unease swirled within me as I waited to get a better look.
The nurse who had guided me in stood by the door. "You can stay as long as you need," he said. "But please, try to stay calm."
I took a seat in a chair beside the bed, gently holding the patient's hand, hoping for any clue about who they were and what was happening. Despite my best efforts to calm myself, fear and anxiety made it hard to focus.
Suddenly, the patient's eyes fluttered open. Despite his pale, exhausted appearance, his gaze met mine with surprising gentleness. My heart raced as I tried to determine if this was really Evan.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What happened to you?"
The patient struggled to speak, his voice weak. "Lucia… you finally came."
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my name, and I hoped it was a sign that Evan would recover soon. I gripped the patient's hand tightly, yearning for answers and reassurance that everything would be alright.
As I took in the scene, relief washed over me when I realized that the man in the bed was not Evan, but Adrian. Though I was relieved, seeing Adrian in such a state—badly injured and covered in bandages—stirred a mix of emotions within me.
Adrian, writhing in pain, called out my name. Several nurses tried to calm him, but he was clearly distraught. I approached, hoping to offer some comfort.
When I stood beside his bed, Adrian's tear-filled eyes locked onto mine. He reached out for me, attempting to pull me into a hug. I quickly recoiled and rejected his gesture.
"Adrian," I said firmly, "don't try to hug me."
The memory of his affair with my stepsister ignited a deep sense of disgust and anger within me. The feelings overwhelmed me, making it difficult to do more than stand there, wrestling with my emotions.
Adrian looked both hurt and disappointed, but I couldn't bring myself to forgive him. He continued to reach out, but I maintained my distance, letting the nurses tend to him
Meanwhile Elsewhere
First Person: (deep, frustrated voice) "There's a major issue. Our entire plan is on the brink of collapse because someone keeps messing everything up. We can barely manage the situation."
Second Person: (cold, controlled tone) "Fix this problem immediately. Chaos is unacceptable. We need to keep everything on track."
First Person: (desperate tone) "This is more complicated than you realize. It's not the work of an ordinary person. There are much greater forces at play here."
Anxiously, the First Figure opened the file he was carrying and scattered its contents across the table. A profile of a very important person was laid out for scrutiny. The Second Figure examined it closely, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the details.
Second Person: (surprised, low voice) "This… This isn't just random information. This could change everything."
The Second Figure studied the profile with intense curiosity. Surprise and anxiety etched across his face underscored the gravity of the information he had just read. The air grew tense as the First Figure waited, feeling the weight of the situation.
Second Person: (with firm resolve) "I need to handle this personally. This isn't something we can delegate."
******
In the apartment, which now feels like home to Evan, the atmosphere is quite different from usual. Evan is busy in the kitchen, cooking and serving food with great attention. The clanging of pots and pans serves as a pleasant background soundtrack, and the delicious aroma of the food fills the air.
On the other side of the room, Han is busy cleaning some weapons from blood. His deft hands seem unaffected by the chaos around him. Despite the tense atmosphere, there's a bit of light-hearted banter between them.
**Han**: "So, are you upset that she's visiting her ex in the hospital?"
**Evan**, with a relaxed smile: "Not at all. It actually gives me time to cook and prepare for her return. Should I set out some wine?"
Han laughs at Evan's comment and then responds with a touch of sarcasm: "That guy nearly blew up this apartment building, and your girl almost figured out our identities."
Evan, sitting confidently at the dining table, replies: "Oh, that won't happen. You know, the taxi driver is Agent 102, an expert at measuring distances. Lucia won't find anything but a life that's spinning just as it should."
Evan gives Han a meaningful look, indicating his confidence in the plan. However, his instincts tell him that Lucia might be coming back soon. With a firm tone, he says:
**Evan**: "It's time for you to leave. I have a feeling Lucia will be back soon, and I want everything ready."