"Why'd you go through my things?" Gemma panicked as she avoided Murphy's question entirely. "I'm 18 now. You can't just barge into my room and rummage through my stuff!" Murphy's expression darkened as he slammed the ashtray on the table. "Is that the main point here?!" The ashtray hit the floor with a dull thud, and Gemma flinched in fear. "Gemma, you've misunderstood your uncle." At the height of the tension, Evangeline stepped in with a false air of concern. "He didn't go into your room. It's my fault. I didn't have any clean clothes, and the ones I wore yesterday... Well, they got ruined by your Uncle Murphy..." She blushed, feigning shyness as she paused for effect before continuing, "I had nothing to wear, so I went into your room to borrow an old outfit of yours. But while looking, I accidentally came across this cancer diagnosis on your desk." She was lying. Gemma had locked the cancer diagnosis away on the very first day she received it. Yet in Evangeline's story, it sounded as if Gemma had deliberately left the diagnosis in plain sight, waiting for them to find it. "Gemma, you're so young. How could you possibly have cancer?" Evangeline clutched her chest, her expression a delicate mix of sorrow and beauty. "Be honest with me. Is this diagnosis real, or is it some cruel prank?" Gemma turned to Murphy, realizing for the first time that his gaze held more anger than concern.