Days turned into silence. Richard's anger cooled, but guilt haunted him. He caught himself glancing toward her studio door more often than he wanted to admit.
Mrs. McDonald noticed. "You're beginning to care," she said one morning.
Richard frowned. "Don't start, Mother."
"She's different. You know it."
He didn't answer.
Meanwhile, Jenna avoided him completely. She spent her time visiting her mother in the hospital and finishing the cosmos pendant she never gave Old Mr. Samson. It was her reminder — beauty born from pain.
But one night, as a storm raged outside, Richard came home injured from a fight with rival businessmen. He collapsed near the entrance, soaked and feverish. The servants panicked. Jenna rushed forward instinctively.
"Get the doctor," she shouted. "Now!"
Through the fever, Richard's hand clutched hers tightly. "Jenna…" he whispered before passing out.
She didn't let go all night.