Chapter 390

Evelyn could tell Serena wasn’t joking.

The little boy’s complexion was fair, almost porcelain-like, but it wasn’t the healthy glow of youth. Instead, it was pale and fragile, tinged with something unsettling.

"How did this happen?"

"It might be genetic, but we can’t say for sure. The world is vast, and some illnesses remain incurable. It’s not uncommon," Donovan replied, his tone measured, as if discussing the weather rather than his son’s condition.

Evelyn’s gaze lingered on Oliver, her heart clenching. The boy, sensing her sympathy, offered a small, reassuring smile. "It’s okay, Miss. I’m used to it. Really."

His words only made her chest tighten further.

He was just a child—so young, yet already so resigned.

What a sweet, heartbreaking boy.

"There’s no treatment at all? With medical advancements, surely there’s hope?"

Donovan shook his head. "We’ve consulted countless specialists. His condition stems from a genetic defect. A cure is… unlikely."

His words carried the weight of years of dashed hopes.

"But Oliver is still young," Serena interjected, her voice bright with forced cheer. "Medicine evolves every day! And for now, his condition is stable. Sure, he has dietary restrictions, but there’s still plenty of delicious food he can enjoy, right?"

Oliver ducked his head, his shy smile barely hiding his discomfort.

"Yes, there’s time," Donovan agreed, clearly eager to shift the conversation. "Speaking of which—congratulations on your win at the perfumery competition. I haven’t had the chance to properly celebrate you yet."

He raised his glass. "To Evelyn Carter, the rising star of Laurentia’s perfume world."

"Thank you," Evelyn murmured, lifting her own glass.

Serena, never one to be left out, clinked hers against theirs. "Me too! Evelyn, you’re incredible! My father hasn’t stopped singing your praises since the competition. And trust me, he never does that."

Evelyn chuckled softly. "I appreciate it."

"But why did you turn him down?" Serena pressed, pouting. "If you’d accepted his offer, you could’ve stayed in Laurentia! We could’ve seen each other all the time!"

Donovan arched a brow, intrigued. "Ah, yes. I’ve been wondering the same. Laurentia is the heart of the perfume industry. The opportunities here are unparalleled. Why leave?"

It wasn’t the first time someone had asked her that.

Evelyn’s smile was faint but resolute. "Laurentia is wonderful, but… my heart belongs elsewhere."

"Ah, a patriot," Donovan mused, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Not patriotism," she corrected gently. "It’s nostalgia."

For home. For friends. For the people she loved.

Those were the ties that bound her—the ones she couldn’t bear to sever.