Chapter 248

The moment the operating room lights dimmed, Emily Smith's nails dug deep into her palms.

At 4:23 PM, the surgery doors finally swung open.

Professor Schievink removed his mask, beads of sweat still glistening on his forehead. "The surgery was a success," he said in English tinged with a German accent. "With the new treatment plan, we expect significant improvement within six months."

Emily's tears broke free like a dam. As she bowed, droplets splashed onto the polished floor tiles, leaving tiny wet stains.

Professor Johnson steadied her trembling shoulders. "Emily, your sister has an incredible will to survive."

It wasn't until 9:30 PM, after confirming her sister's stable vitals, that Emily dragged her exhausted body back to Sky City Apartments.

In the elevator, she collided with movers hauling furniture into unit 2803. A brand-new leather sofa brushed against her coat, leaving an almost imperceptible crease.

She stared blankly at the elevator buttons. Daniel Chen had only moved out two weeks ago, yet this home already had a new owner.

The smug smile of Sophia Song flashed in her mind. Emily pulled out the gilded invitation from her bag—Daniel's smile in the photo looked stiff, clearly photoshopped.

"Be happy," she whispered to the empty air, her fingers tracing a faint mark along the invitation's edge.

The next day in the recording studio, Ethan He handed her a thermos as she massaged her temples.

"Throat sore?" he asked, leaning closer, the faint scent of cedarwood clinging to him.

Emily shook her head. Unscrewing the lid, she found warm honey citron tea inside. Ethan's canine tooth glinted under the lights. "Secret recipe," he said.

As they wrapped up that afternoon, Ethan suddenly stopped her. "There's an audition opportunity." He waved his phone. "Lead female role for Stellar Fantasia. Want to meet the producer now?"

Emily's eyes lit up. It was this year's most anticipated animated film.

In the private dining room, producer Leo Lin studied her for five full seconds. "Unique vocal tone," he remarked, sliding a script across the table. "Try this crying scene."

Emily took a deep breath. The moment her first syllable fell, the room grew so quiet she could hear the hum of the air conditioner.

"You're perfect," Leo applauded, and only then did Emily notice her palms were drenched in sweat.

Under the table, Ethan's knee brushed against hers. The sparkle in his eyes outshone the neon lights outside the window.

"Three PM tomorrow," Leo handed her a business card, "come straight to our studio to record the demo."

Night wind lifted Emily's skirt as they exited the restaurant. Ethan suddenly said, "When you delivered those lines, you reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday."

Emily gazed at the distant office tower lights—William Johnson's office was somewhere in that direction. Her grip tightened on her bag strap.

"Need a ride?" Ethan opened his sports car door.

"No," she stepped back, "the subway's more convenient."

He didn't insist, but as she turned away, he called out, "See you tomorrow!" His voice pierced the night, startling sparrows from the roadside.

Emily didn't look back, only raised her hand in a small wave. The subway tunnel wind scattered her lifted hair like black silk flowing under the lights.