It was a sunny day, but Anastasia paced anxiously, her heart heavy. Although she trusted Lily, it was almost noon, and she had not yet arrived. Lily hadn't answered her phone, leaving Anastasia wondering what was happening and if her father might wake.

A knock on the door startled her. "Who is it?" she asked reflexively.

"Miss Rollins?" A servant's voice answered.

Relief washed over Anastasia as she glanced at her still-unconscious father. Opening the door, she asked, "What's the matter?"

The servant hesitated. "Miss Rollins, the downstairs phone has been ringing constantly since we plugged it in. Would you like to answer it?"

They unplugged the landline nightly between 10 p.m. and 8 a.m., and only close contacts could reach Anastasia's mobile; she was weary of the constant requests to see her father.

She pursed her lips. "Don't bother with it!" she said. "It's better to let it ring. Even if I don't answer, I know they're trying to gather information. For days I've said Dad's been ill, but he used to answer the phone and work even when sick. This is too unusual."

She knew she couldn't pretend to be her father. His trusted assistant handled simpler tasks, visiting several times, but Anastasia sensed his trust waning. If this continued and others gave in, she'd have no choice but to hospitalize her father. Doubt gnawed at her; should she continue trusting Lily and avoid sending Cameron to the hospital?

Dismissing the servant, Anastasia returned to her father's bedside, holding his hand and gazing at his sleeping face. He'd lost weight, his breathing labored, his eyes sunken, yet he still breathed. If Rhea were alive, Anastasia would demand answers about what she had done to Cameron and why she had poisoned herself and her father.

"Miss Rollins!" The servant's voice, laced with impatience, startled her. "Didn't I tell you to let it ring?"

"N-No..." The servant stammered, then continued, "Mr. Russell is here."

Surprised, Anastasia rushed to the door. "Lily is here?"

The servant recoiled slightly. "No, no, it's Mr. Russell. He came alone."

"Just him?" Anastasia was stunned, but realizing it was better than nothing, she instructed the servant to admit Alexander, quickly tidying the room before going downstairs.

Seeing Alexander alone, disappointment washed over her. "H-Hi, Alex," she mumbled.