By the time Charlene finally wrapped up her work, it was already past ten.

Autumn had settled in, and after days of rain, the temperature had dropped sharply. She’d spent hours hunched over her laptop, and now a chill crept into her bones. As she closed her computer and stood to get ready for a shower, a sudden shiver ran through her, followed by a string of sneezes.

After showering, she noticed her nose had started to run, and her throat felt dry and raw, as if scorched from the inside out.

Realizing she was probably coming down with a cold, Charlene remembered the staff in the old manor would all be asleep by now. So, she padded downstairs herself and made a quick pot of hot soup to ward off the chill.

Feeling a little better after the soup and some cold medicine she found in the kitchen, she returned upstairs-only to hear Thorne’s voice behind her. “Still awake?”

Charlene glanced over her shoulder. “Not for long.”

She was exhausted and had no energy for conversation. “I’m heading to bed,” she said simply, turning to retreat to Jasmine’s room. She fell asleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she floated up from the depths of sleep to the sound of Jasmine’s small voice beside her.

“Mommy, you’re really warm…”

Footsteps soon echoed through the room-other people entering. Charlene tried to open her eyes, but her head felt thick and heavy, and she drifted back into unconsciousness.

When she finally woke again, her head ached and her limbs felt weak. Her throat burned.

She tried to sit up and reach for water, and as she swung her legs out of bed, someone was suddenly at her side. “Here, have some water first.”

Charlene blinked, finally managing to open her eyes. Thorne stood in front of her.

He turned to pour her a glass of water, then handed it to her. She took it automatically, intending to thank him, but her throat was so raw that she could barely get the words out.

She’d only managed a couple of sips before Thorne crossed the room and picked up the phone. “Could you bring up some soup, please?” he asked into the receiver.

The water helped clear her head a little. As she set the glass down the nightstand, she suddenly

realized she wasn’t in Jasmine

room-she was in Thorne’s s

He must have been taking care of her; there was even an open book lying on a table nearby.

Before she could dwell on it, Thorne hung up the phone and turned back to her. Your fever was 103.6 about ten minutes ago. I’ve called Dr Ableson, and the should be here soon.” s

Charlene tried to respond, but her attention was drawn to the window. Outside,

the sky was still gloomy-it looked like the rain hadn’t let up.

She suddenly remembered she had a meeting this morning and couldn’t help but ask, “What time is it?”

“Eight twenty.”

Earlier than she’d feared.

Relief washed over her, but Thorne spoke again. “Do you want your phone?”

“… Yeah,” she croaked.

Thorne left the room to fetch her phone from Jasmine’s room. Just then, the butler arrived with a steaming bowl of soup.

Charlene was about to get up and freshen up when a deep rumble echoed from outside.

She paused, confused, but the butler just smiled. “That should be Dr. Ableson.”

Seeing Charlene’s puzzled look, he explained, “The rain’s let up and the water’s receded, but the roads still aren’t clear enough for cars. Your fever was so high that Mr Thorne was worried, so he arranged for a helicopter to bring Dr. Ableson in.” s

With that, the butler offered a few final words of reassurance before slipping out to

tend to other duties.