Chapter 35: Clara's Fingers Turned White

Clara's fingers turned white as she gripped her phone.

The image of Grant and Paige holding hands was burned into her mind.

"If you're sick, go to the hospital."

Her voice remained eerily calm.

Heavy breathing came through the receiver.

The call ended with a sharp click as she tossed her phone onto the couch.

The coffee on the table had gone cold.

Grant stared at the darkened screen, his knuckles turning white.

Crash!

His phone shattered against the wall.

Mrs. Palmer's hands trembled as she carried the medicine tray.

"Young master..."

Grant clutched his stomach, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Get out."

He staggered upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.

Mrs. Palmer sighed at the broken phone remains.

Such a wonderful girl, Miss Clara...

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains.

Mrs. Palmer knocked softly after finishing her chores.

"Young master? Time for your medicine..."

Silence.

Shaking her head, she left the villa with the trash bags.

Victoria's heels clicked across the living room floor at dusk.

"Bro? Mom wants—"

Her voice cut off.

An unanswered call glowed on the coffee table.

The second floor lay in ominous silence.

"Bro!"

She raced upstairs, pounding on the door.

"Mrs. Palmer! Is something wrong with Grant?"

The housekeeper's panicked voice came through. "He hasn't come out..."

The spare key turned with a grating sound.

Victoria's scream pierced the quiet.

"Call an ambulance! Now!"

Harsh fluorescent lights illuminated the hospital corridor.

Grant's throat burned when he awoke.

"Water..."

Mason quickly handed him a glass.

The room overflowed with visitors.

Connor frowned. "Gastric hemorrhage and you tried to tough it out?"

Julian peeled an apple. "If Victoria hadn't found you..."

Victoria wiped red-rimmed eyes. "You scared me to death."

Grant's gaze swept across each face.

Absent.

The one presence he sought.

He closed his eyes, mouth twisting bitterly.

She'd truly... abandoned him.