Ever since the last time they'd seen each other, Molly had been desperate for another chance to be near him.
But opportunities were rare. Even work updates usually went through Hans.
Calling Mr. Andres under the excuse of Sofia's illness wasn't appropriate—and Molly knew that.
She did it anyway.
Now, seeing the man she'd been obsessing over, Molly couldn't hide the longing in her eyes.
Where Andres was, no one else existed for her.
Maeve—walking right beside him—might as well have been invisible.
Andres only gave Molly a brief nod. Then he slid an arm around Maeve's waist and headed straight for his mother's room.
Only then did Molly register what she'd missed.
Besides Warren, Murray, and the bodyguards, there was a beautiful young woman with Andres—so striking that even a glimpse felt like it burned into Molly's mind.
All the anticipation in Molly's chest sank like a stone.
"Who is she?"
"Why is she walking beside him?"
"And why is his hand on her waist like that—like it belongs there?"
Molly remembered the last time—when Andres had been texting someone, patient and careful, coaxing even when the girl on the other end was clearly irritated.
Was it her?
No one cared what Molly's face looked like as it drained of color.
She could only stand there, watching Andres and that girl disappear toward the master bedroom.
Inside, several doctors were speaking in low voices, discussing medication plans.
Andres's arrival immediately shifted the room. The staff straightened as if the center of gravity had returned.
"Mr. Andres," one doctor said, "Madam's condition isn't optimistic. The two-month window we discussed before… she likely doesn't have that long."
Andres went to the bed.

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