The photo showed Ernest carefully lowering his head, tending to Sydney's tiny fingernail-sized cut, applying iodine and placing a bandage.

Ivana found it a bit of an eyesore. Ernest had never done any of that for her. At most, he'd buy her some medicine and a bandage and back then, she had been unbelievably moved.

Once, she clung to Ernest, asking him to apply the medicine for her. But he said he couldn't because he was afraid of blood.

Now that she thought about it, that excuse had been far too obvious. A man who could sever someone's finger without blinking couldn't possibly be afraid of blood.

It was just that, at the time, Ivana hadn't been able to see through it. The difference in treatment between the real one and the stand-in, that was just how it was, Ivana told herself.

She stared at the photo for a moment. Hmm, it didn't bother her anymore. She even liked the post.

That night was particularly quiet. Only her phone buzzed constantly with cloud syncs and activity on her feed. Ivana worked late into the night. The nurse scolded her multiple times before she finally went to sleep.

By then, all her paperwork was filled out, her calls were made and all that was left was waiting for her visa.

The next day, Ivana lazily woke up when the sun was already high in the sky.

The moment she opened her eyes, she saw Sydney placing a bouquet of lilies on her bedside table, with a fruit basket on the chair. Before Ivana could say a word, she started sneezing.

Covering her nose and mouth, she called out, "Nurse! Nurse! Get these flowers out of here! Throw them away! Open the windows! Air it out!"

The nurse, naturally obedient to her employer, quickly removed the flowers and opened the windows to let fresh air in.

Sydney blinked her big, innocent eyes at Ernest with a pitiful expression, "Ernest …"

"Ivana! Sydney came to see you out of kindness and even brought flowers! You've gone too far. She didn't cause you to lose your toe!" Ernest shielded Sydney behind him.

Ivana glanced at her heavily bandaged foot and almost laughed. Wasn't it ridiculous? Did Ernest think someone who could barely walk could harm Sydney?

Ernest turned and stepped out of the room, grabbing the flowers left in the hallway and shoving them back into Ivana's arms.

"Apologize to Sydney!" he commanded.

Ivana's face was buried in the lilies. Her severe pollen allergy made her feel suffocated.

Ernest, seeing her silent, pushed the lilies against her chest again.

Her anger made her breathe harder and the pollen triggered even worse reactions. Ivana began to struggle to breathe. She reached out, gripping the call button on the bed, squeezing it so tightly her hand turned white.

"Apologize! Do you hear me?" Ernest seemed oblivious to Ivana's pale face and bluish lips. He kept pressing the lilies against her, demanding an apology.

By the time the nurse rushed in, Ivana was already struggling for air, unable to say a word.

The experienced nurse immediately saw what was wrong. She shoved Ernest aside, tossing the flowers out of the room, "Quick! Call the doctor! Move! Make way!"

"Who's the family member?" The doctor moved quickly, oxygen mask on, blankets adjusted, pupils checked …

Ernest instinctively responded, "I am."

A piece of paper was stuffed into his hands, "She's in anaphylactic shock, we're resuscitating her. Sign it!"

Ernest didn't even read the paper. He quickly signed, an inexplicable sense of panic rising within him.

As the adrenaline was administered, Ivana slowly regained consciousness.

The doctor gave a few instructions to the nurse before frowning at Ernest, "As her family member, you didn't know she was allergic to lilies? Severe allergies can lead to shock! What kind of family member are you?"

Ivana, now able to breathe again, glanced at Ernest before closing her eyes and turning her back to him. She didn't want to see him or talk to him right now, she was utterly drained.

"I … I didn't mean to, Ivana. Don't be mad at Ernest. I bought the flowers. It has nothing to do with him." Sydney sobbed softly, her voice dripping with artificial innocence.

Ivana found it irritating. She turned her back to them, ignoring her entirely.

Ernest said, "Ivana, Sydney already apologized. She meant well. Aren't you going too far?"

"Ernest, stop. It's my fault," Sydney murmured weakly.

"Ivana!" Ernest grabbed Ivana's arm, flipping her over forcefully.

Ivana, who had barely recovered, was still as pale as a sheet. Ernest froze for a second.

Sydney clutched his arm, "Ernest, Ivana just woke up. It's only natural she'd be upset. After all, it's my fault. She lost a toe and now she's … now she's disabled. It's understandable for her to have a bad temper."

Ivana slowly withdrew her arm, which Ernest had gripped so tightly it hurt. She quietly watched Sydney perform her little act.

"Ivana, I know you're unhappy, but you can't treat Sydney this way. She came to see you with good intentions. She even picked the lilies one by one for you. She just apologized, so now it's your turn to apologize to her," he said.

Ivana's chest ached. In a hoarse voice, she repeated, "You … want me … to apologize? Ernest, you want me to apologize to her?" He wanted her to apologize to Sydney!

A stranger might not have known about her pollen allergy, but Ernest definitely knew!

When they first got together, Ernest had once bought her lilies too because he used to buy them every day when he pursued Sydney.

Ivana, trying to hold in her allergic reaction, had accepted them. By dinner time, she was covered in rashes and running a fever. Ernest had rushed her to the hospital and upon finding out the reason, he'd laughed as he held her, calling her silly. After that, he never sent her lilies again.

And yet, the moment Sydney returned, he'd forgotten it all. Of course, if the stand-in differed from the original, it could only be the stand-in's fault.

"I did nothing wrong," Ivana said weakly but firmly.

"Ernest, it's my fault. Blame me, okay? Don't argue with Ivana." Sydney's voice trembled pitifully, her eyes brimming with tears.

One insisted on an apology, the other refused. The standoff persisted.

"Enough noise! This is a hospital ward, it needs to stay quiet! What's wrong with you as a family member? She just got saved and you're here arguing with her?" The nurse, having seen all kinds of situations, sized up the scene immediately.

Disgusted by the spectacle and Ernest's raised voice, she finally stepped in to shoo them off.

Sydney couldn't stand the curious and disapproving glances from several nurses outside. Tugging at Ernest, she whispered, "Ernest, my stomach hurts."

Ernest finally helped Sydney out, the nurses throwing disdainful glances at them as they left. "What kind of people are they?" The nurse rolled her eyes, watching them disappear down the hallway.

Ting! A notification appeared on Ivana's phone.

"Dear passenger Ivana Millian, your flight ticket has been issued. Journey: San Diego to France. Ticket number … Please arrive at the airport 2 hours early with your ID to complete check-in."

The days before her discharge were peaceful. Sydney's provocative messages occasionally popped up, but Ivana treated them as regular spam.

Her flight was scheduled for ten days later. The first thing Ivana did upon being discharged was head home to pack her things.

The moment she opened her apartment door, she realized everything had changed. The small apartment, which could be seen entirely with one glance, felt foreign. The photos of her awards on the wall were gone, replaced by Sydney's graduation photos.

Her pictures with Ernest had disappeared, replaced by photos of Ernest and Sydney. Even the polaroids stuck to the fridge were now shots of Sydney and Ernest.

The sticky note she'd left on the fridge before leaving used to say: [There's light cheesecake in the fridge that you like. Don't eat too much, you'll get a stomachache.]

Now it read: [Sydney and Ernest's love-preserving fridge,] with a big red heart drawn beside it.

The couple mugs she'd bought for herself and Ernest had been shoved into the furthest corner and mold had even grown inside them.

The bed sheets in the bedroom had been replaced with a lily-themed set that Sydney apparently liked. The sofa cushions, the carpet, the bedside lamp, the trash bin, the shoe cabinet and the little footstool, everything within sight was unrecognizable to Ivana.

She couldn't even find her slippers. In just one month, it felt as though her five years with Ernest had been wiped clean.

Thank goodness it was summer. Ivana walked barefoot, wobbling slightly on the uneven floor. Her foot no longer hurt much, but her gait was still awkward as she was unused to walking like this.

In the storage room, she found her suitcase. She also dug through the closet, now full of Sydney's clothes, to the farthest corner where she unearthed her own crumpled clothes.

The clothes she'd still wear, she folded neatly. Anything Ernest had bought, she threw away.

For a moment, Ivana wanted to toss out the closet itself, too, since she was the one who'd bought it.

She glanced down at her foot, forget it. It had been used for years anyway, she could just treat it as a donation to the junk hauler.

In the end, there was only a single, lightweight suitcase to take with her, but the pile of trash was enough to fill the entrance of the apartment.

Just as she was about to call the property management to arrange garbage pickup, a timid young girl next door approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss …? You don't want all this anymore?" The girl looked as though she had just moved in, not well-off, by the looks of her circumstances. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, glancing nervously at Ivana.

For a moment, Ivana saw herself eight years ago, when she'd first arrived in this city. The room she'd rented back then had been much worse than this apartment.

Back then, she, too, had timidly asked a girl who was moving out, "Miss, do you not want all of this anymore?"

Ivana answered, "Yes, I don't need it anymore. Do you want it?"

The girl's eyes lit up and she blushed with excitement, "How much do you want for it?"

Ivana smiled, "Nothing. Do you have any coke? If you do, an iced cola will do in exchange."

"Yes, yes, I do!" The girl hurriedly fetched a bottle of icy coke, her slippers dragging noisily across the floor.

After taking a gulp of the coke, Ivana's spirits lifted considerably.

"It's all yours!" She left the keys on the table and, with a swing of her suitcase, headed out the door to catch a taxi.

She said, "Sir, end number 8210, Orchard Apartment." Watching the scenery blur past outside the window, Ivana breathed in the scent of freedom.

Ernest called her again, spoiling the mood, though it didn't matter. She only had ten days left to endure.

"Gaining some guts now, huh? You got discharged and didn't even tell me?" His voice was icy, the words forced through gritted teeth.

"I wish you and Sydney happiness." This time, Ivana said it with an incredible calm.

"That's enough! I've already called you, haven't I? If you keep acting like this, don't blame me for what happens! You know my temper!"

Ivana found herself speechless, "If you don't want to hear me speak, you can hang up, you know."

"Ivana!" he yelled.

"Ah, don't yell at her again. Speak nicely," Sydney's sickly sweet voice interrupted as usual. "Hello? Ivana, it's me, Sydney."

Ivana just said, "Oh."

Sydney invited her, "Three days from now, it's my birthday. I don't have many friends here and Ernest booked the entire Nolen Bar. Can you come? We'll celebrate together, okay?"

"I don't think I'll go. My foot isn't convenient." Ivana said.

Sydney tried to persuade, "Ivana, are you still mad at me? I'll make you a cake to apologize, okay?"