At the sound of her voice, Marcus pivoted.

Passing a medical record to Sylvia, Marcus issued a direct command.

"I've covered her hospitalization costs. Arrange for someone to attend to her until her discharge."

Contemplating for a moment, Sylvia inquired, "Mr. Fowler, won't you be personally looking after her?"

Marcus' gaze shifted to the bed where Melissa lay, a picture of fragility.

He offered a faint smile. "I ended things with her." With that, he proceeded to exit the ward.

Simultaneously, a murmur emanated from the bed. "Ryan..."

Upon hearing this, Marcus' countenance grew somber. Sylvia, too, held her breath.

Following a prolonged silence, Marcus pushed the door ajar and left with a sardonic expression.

Sylvia trailed after him to pose her inquiries. In the tranquility of the ward, Melissa's soft voice uttered, “Ryan, I don't love you. I've grown fond of him."

Melissa continued to murmur repeatedly, yet Marcus wasn't there to hear her out.

He failed to grasp the intended message.

Reaching the end of the corridor, Marcus sought a cigarette in his pocket but came up empty-handed.

Abandoning the pursuit, he lowered his hand.

Recognizing his sour mood, Sylvia summoned the courage to console him.

"They've known each other since childhood. There's bound to be a connection. It doesn't necessarily mean..."

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything significant."

Marcus offered a faint smile. "I won't let it get to me."

Inclining his head, Marcus inquired about the upcoming business trip.

Sylvia, internally sighing, responded, "The soonest flight to Livebop is in three days. However, I've secured a ticket for next Friday.