“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?”

up as if preparing for confrontation. Their paths

unfolding circumstances, Hans’ convictions solidified, drawing

unsettled him now crystallized into

me, he wouldn’t have sent me to the hospital.” Roland’s impatience was palpable in

who could it

stranger, someone unfamiliar to this

furrowed expanse between her eyebrows betrayed a lingering sense of unease, a testimony to the fear that had gripped

Marcus that had shielded her

home

witness to Millie’s somber state, Marcus found himself troubled

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