Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 897

By the time Silas stepped out of the emergency room, it was already two in the morning. The doctor stopped her in the hallway and asked,

"Did Mr. Ward show any warning signs before he fainted?"

Marguerite paused, trying to recall. "No, there was nothing unusual. We were just talking when he suddenly complained of a headache. And then-just like that-he collapsed."

The doctor frowned. "That's odd. I just ran a CT scan on his brain-everything looks perfectly normal. There's no trace of any extra painkiller in his system either, so the dosage must've been reduced. There's really no reason he should've passed out."

Marguerite pressed, confused. "So, medically speaking, you're saying he isn't sick at all?"

The doctor hesitated, clearly uneasy. "For now, that's what it looks like. But don't rush to check out. I'd like to keep him under observation for the night, just to be sure."

Marguerite nodded, worry etched in her face, and made her way back to the hospital room.

Inside, Hayes and Margot were fussing around Silas-Hayes dabbing his father's forehead with a damp cloth, Margot kneading his shoulders, both moving around with anxious energy. Margot was a bundle of nerves, while Hayes managed to look calm and collected.

He had a feeling he knew what was going on. His dad must've fainted because that experimental device had glitched again. But something about it didn't sit right with Hayes. Silas and Marguerite had spent the whole day together without a problem-why would he suddenly collapse at night? What exactly had happened? Just then, Silas stirred and opened his eyes. Marguerite stepped forward, about to say something, when the door swung open.

and

to come?

Silas's side, her concern and trembling voice tugging at everyone's heartstrings as

faint again? Are

his expression unreadable as if something weighed on his mind. Then, almost absently, he

I'm awake now, aren't

pang

her-felt like a punch

how awkward and out of place her emotions

and quietly led the boy out into the corridor, settling down on a bench. Moments later, Margot joined them, sitting on

her lips. "Why

serious. She didn't answer the

dad and Violet aren't married. They haven't even gotten a marriage license-I don't

aback, unsure why Margot suddenly felt the need to explain this. Whether or not they'd made it official or had a wedding hardly seemed to matter-Violet herself had once said

how to respond, and settled for a vague

"Oh? Is that so?"