“Mother, don’t curse me. I shall triumph over this predicament. My gait remains unimpeded. A trifling wound, truly.” Roland’s fervor surged, and he poised to set foot in motion.

“You, my dear and impulsive son, do take a seat.” With immediacy, Delia interceded, her actions a swift arrest of his intent, while her tone carried a reproachful note.

Millie, positioned alongside them, prompted Roland’s gaze.

“Millie, you needn’t remain. My mother shall oversee my recovery “Rest well,” she offered, a benediction before her departure. Millie offered a subtle nod, her affirmation a silent acknowledgment of the situation, Meanwhile, Hans cast a stern gaze in her direction, a glare laden with unspoken queries. Following her exit from the ward, Hans seized the moment to voice his curiosity.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

“Speak truthfully now. Has Millie’s husband caused you harm?”

his sleeves methodically rolled up as if preparing for confrontation. Their paths crossed with Marcus along the

Hans’ convictions solidified, drawing a

had initially unsettled him now crystallized into a

not him. Moreover, it’s nonsensical. If he had harmed me, he wouldn’t have sent me to the hospital.” Roland’s impatience was palpable in his

who could it

unfamiliar to

to join Marcus before they exited the hospital together. The furrowed expanse between her eyebrows betrayed a lingering sense of unease, a testimony to

had shielded her from a potential tragedy, a realization that weighed heavily on her

home and find respite in slumber,”

Millie’s somber state, Marcus found

the reason behind

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