Chapter 340 A Call for Help

With a bittersweet smile, Nathaniel placed Frey's right hand on the piano keys and said hoarsely, "How about we play a song together like this? I'll play as the left hand and you're the right?" Frey looked up at Nathaniel. A moment of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered their previous duet. The memory mingled with the present, adding a touch of poignancy to the scene. Meanwhile, Peyton and Koen were strolling by the lake when the melody of "Dedicated to Alice" drifted from the castle's second-floor window.

"Can Frey play the piano?" Peyton wondered aloud, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The doctor had said her hand might never recover, so hearing piano music was a surprise. Could Mr. Nathaniel be playing it? It didn't seem likely. Nonetheless, hearing the piano music was a hopeful sign.

That evening, a doctor arrived at the castle with Ozzy. A special medical room had been set up to facilitate Frey's treatment.

She underwent two hours of therapy, and the results were more promising than expected.

Nathaniel felt a wave of relief. He was grateful he had brought Frey away from the tumultuous environment of Saeville. Things were finally starting to improve.

While Frey rested in her room, Nathaniel stayed behind to discuss the treatment plan with the psychiatrist and Ozzy.

Over the next few days, Nathaniel was virtually inseparable from Frey. It wasn't just that he followed her around. It was as if he had become a shadow, constantly present in her life. Every morning, Nathaniel would wake Frey for a jog around the lake.

fish together or simply enjoy each other's

his business concerns, focusing solely

the river, He even took her skiing once, but

while Frey painted the serene lake scene from the castle rooftop, Nathaniel would finally have time to catch up on work, sifting

white marble carved with primitive patterns, was a

was perfect

other hand, Nathaniel was seated nearby on a lazy sofa and was immersed in his work. They had fallen into a comfortable, unspoken

was abruptly shattered by the ringing of Nathaniel's cell phone. It was an

eyebrows furrowed. This was his private number, known only to a few close associates.

Abigail's

I don't want to die... I don't

Frey again. Please help me! I

the phone. He glanced at Frey, then

his previous relationship

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