Every day, nurses and bodyguards were stationed inside and outside Lumina's hospital room, as if they feared she might run off and cause trouble again.

The truth was, she couldn’t even stand on her own two feet.

Floyd had his doubts, but Sean quickly covered for her. "Lumina's legs have already healed, but she refuses to get up. There's nothing I can do about it."

"Once we send her abroad, she won’t be able to play the victim in front of you anymore. Maybe then she’ll finally stand up."

Floyd's face darkened again. "It seems like that month at Mount Gravenwood didn’t teach her anything."

He didn’t understand why Lumina was always so willful, why she had to use her own health as a bargaining chip to manipulate him.

Yet, deep down, a secret sense of happiness stirred within him at the thought that Lumina cared so much for him.

At that, Lumina didn’t respond the way he expected—panicked or pleading. Instead, she asked quietly, "How is Grandma?"

"How dare you ask about Grandma?" Floyd's frustration flared. "If you hadn’t gone behind her back and complained, dragging her all the way here, she never would’ve fainted!"

"It wasn’t me." Lumina softly defended herself.

"What?" Floyd heard her, but he was unwilling to believe it.

Floyd would never believe her, Lumina thought as she closed her eyes again.

Two days later, it was the day she would leave forever. It seemed as if they planned to send her away for good, keeping her out of their lives once and for all.

All of Lumina’s belongings were packed up and sent to the Stuart Family estate—her clothes, her jewelry, but mostly the paintings she had created for Floyd.

When she first arrived at the manor, she was often downcast and lost in thought.

Although Grandma Alice tried to offer comfort, her strength was limited by age and there were times when she simply couldn’t do enough. That’s when Grandma Alice asked Floyd to stay by Lumina’s side.

Floyd would hold her hand as they took walks around the estate. He would take her to watch fireworks light up the sky and whenever she missed her parents, he would gently wipe away her tears, whispering,

"Don’t worry, I’ll always be here with you."

It was during these moments that Lumina began to secretly draw Floyd.

She captured him from every angle—the front view, his side profile, his smiling face. Every subtle gesture became etched in her heart and transferred to paper.

On the day of their engagement, Lumina felt truly alive for the first time. It was as though she had finally found someone in the world who would never leave her.

That was why she spent an entire month working on a painting of herself kissing Floyd. But before she could give him the finished piece, Tracie arrived, stepping off the plane.

It was the first time Floyd had ever let go of her hand. "Moony, be good. I'm just going to pick someone up. I'll be back soon."

He never returned that night.

From that moment on, he never called her "Moony" again. Instead, he addressed her not by nickname--"Lumina."

Her painting would never be delivered. But no matter how hard she tried, her heart couldn’t seem to let go.

It wasn’t until she ate the red fruit in the forest that everything truly changed.

A single bite of the poisonous fruit twisted her insides and she knew—she was dying. In her final moments, her past obsessions replayed over and over, until they faded into nothingness.

It was then that she finally gave up.

If she couldn’t have her heart back, then she didn’t want it—just like Floyd, she didn’t need him anymore.

As she hovered on the edge of death, a voice suddenly whispered in her ear. "Do you want to live? I can make you an offer."

Dazed, she heard herself ask, "What kind of offer?"

The Spirit of the Forest, with no physical form but a voice full of sorrow, replied, "I can use the last of my power to save you. But once you leave this place, your soul will have to enter my body and fulfill the wish I couldn’t complete in life."

"What is your wish?"

"To marry Grant Saunders, to be with him forever," Lumina answered without hesitation.

"Then why don’t you go back?"

The Spirit of Gravenwood let out a soft, hollow laugh, the sound tinged with more sorrow than humor. "I’ve been drifting here for three years. Even if I leave, my soul will be lost. You are my only hope."

"Alright. I agree to your deal."

Suddenly, the sunlight streaming through the window burned into Lumina’s eyes.

On the other end of the phone, the airport attendant asked, "Ms. Shields, the list for your checked luggage has been sent. Could you please confirm if everything is in order?"

"No need," Lumina replied flatly. "Just throw it all away. I don’t want it anymore."

"Throw it away?" Floyd entered the room just as she hung up, his expression uncertain.

Lumina looked up at him, then softly shook her head. "Just some old clothes."

Seeing her detached response, Floyd felt a sharp pang in his chest. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to soften his stance. His voice turned cold.

"I’m sending you abroad so you can reflect on your actions and stop causing trouble."

Lumina nodded. "I’m sorry. I won’t do it again."

Tracie walked in from the hallway, casually linking her arm with Floyd's, her smile as natural as if they were the perfect couple.

If this had been any other day, Lumina would have stormed over, furious and tried to separate them.

But today, she only watched quietly, a faint, almost resigned smile tugging at her lips.

Floyd’s heart skipped a beat.

“You two go ahead. I’ll be down in a bit,” Lumina said, turning her back to them without another word.

"Looks like Lumina’s throwing another tantrum," Tracie said, covering her mouth with a soft laugh. Her eyes remained fixed on Floyd, studying his every reaction. When she saw him finally relax with a sigh, she led him out of the room.

"Even though it's overseas, it's just a few thousand miles. If you ever want to see Lumina, you can fly out there anytime, or even bring her back."

Tracie's smile softened. "If her attitude doesn’t improve, maybe it’s best she never comes back."

Floyd couldn’t shake his frustration over Lumina’s cold behavior. Normally, she would have begged him by now, wouldn’t she?

If only she had pouted, promised to change—he wouldn’t have insisted on sending her so far away.

She was still young, spoiled and sheltered. Living alone abroad, she must be terrified, right?

"Ah—"

A sudden, panicked cry snapped Floyd from his thoughts.

He turned just in time to see Lumina sitting on the third-floor windowsill. Her legs swayed weakly, like autumn leaves on the verge of being swept away by the wind.

"Moony!"

In that instant, Floyd’s heart stopped. He tore his arm from the person beside him and sprinted toward Lumina in desperation.

"Moony, what are you doing? Don’t be reckless! We can talk, just don’t..." But before he could finish, Lumina leapt from the windowsill.

Her white figure fell, like a bird with broken wings, drifting helplessly toward the ground.