Chapter 804
“What?” Harrison gripped the phone tightly, not hesitating for a second. “I’m on my way.”
Harrison rushed home as fast as he could.
When he arrived, Anastasia was lying in bed wrapped in a thick quilt, her face flushed and weak, her hair damp with sweat. An IV drip was set up beside her.
Seeing him, she spoke with a pitiful whimper, “Hubby, you’re finally back. I feel so awful…”
Harrison strode over and felt her forehead, his expression instantly darkening. “Why are you still so hot?”
The doctor glanced at the old madam, who quickly said, “The medicine needs time to work. The doctor just started the drip. Well, since you’re back, I’m off to bed. You take good care of Ana.”
With that, she led the doctor and the maids out of the room.
“How did you suddenly get a fever?” Harrison asked grimly, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
Anastasia looked at him, weak and miserable. “I think I caught a cold when I took a shower this afternoon…”
She looked genuinely unwell. No sooner had he wiped the sweat from her brow than a fresh layer appeared, as if steam were rising from her head.
Harrison patiently wiped her forehead again, his eyes betraying his concern. “Does it feel really bad?”
“It’s awful…”
Harrison frowned at the IV bag beside her. “I’m still worried. Get up, we’re going to the hospital.”
He started to pull back the covers to pick her up.
Startled, Anastasia quickly pressed down on the quilt. “No, I want to stay home…”
Harrison paused, his gaze deepening as he felt her forehead again. “But your fever is so high. I won’t be at ease if we don’t go to the hospital.”
Anastasia mumbled, “It should break soon. Mr. Perez is a good doctor; he can handle a simple fever.”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed.
Watching her burrowed under the covers, with only her sweaty head visible, he straightened up. “Fine, we’ll stay here.”
Anastasia quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Just then, a maid brought in some food. “The madam wasn’t feeling well earlier and hasn’t had dinner yet.”
It was true that she hadn’t eaten dinner-she’d barely eaten lunch-and at the smell of the food, Anastasia’s eyes practically lit up.
While Harrison was looking toward the door, she quickly scooted up against the headboard pulling the quit back up to cover everything below her neck.
Then, she extended a trembling hand from under the covers. It rose a few inches before falling back limply. She turned to flarrison, her voice weak and pleading, “…can’t hold the bowl. Feed me.”
Harrison glanced at her, then slowly took off the jacket he’d been too rushed to remove when he came in and set it aside. “Alright.”
He took the bowl of warm food from the maid and began feeding it to her, one spoonful at a time.
Anastasia’s weakness was half-real, half-feigned—she was genuinely weak from hunger.
After half a bowl, she already looked much more vibrant.
Suddenly, Harrison said calmly, “The IV needle fell out.”
His tone was so placid that Anastasia replied without thinking, “It’s in my hand, how could it fall…”
Before she could finish, her eyes fell upon the TV needle that had slipped out from under the covers, lying exposed on the bed, not inserted in her hand at all content
The air was suddenly, terrifyingly still.