Chapter 248

Dr. Harmon opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what else to say. The disease was unpredictable; her condition could worsen in an instant.

"Alright," he finally conceded. "I won't tell him. But you must remember to take this medicine."

Latisha nodded, giving him a look of gratitude.

Dr. Harmon had visited her many times, but he'd never looked at her with such pity before. Seeing it now made her eyes sting. This was the expression she hated most -the one that constantly reminded her that she was different, that she wasn't normal.

She just wanted to be normal...

Sensing her distress, Dr. Harmon quickly said, "Ma'am, please... don't cry. This disease truly isn't that severe. As long as you take your medicine and write things down every day, it's manageable."

Latisha looked down at the report lying on the floor. After a moment, she picked it up and read it one more time. Then, with methodical precision, she tore the paper into tiny pieces and dropped them into the wastebasket.

"Ma'am..."

Latisha picked up her phone and typed: *I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, Dr. Harmon.*

"Just try not to get too depressed. That won't be good for your condition."

She nodded slightly.

Dr. Harmon offered a few more words of comfort, which Latisha listened to in silence, occasionally nodding along. The moment Ziven arrived with dinner, Dr. Harmon took it as his cue to leave.

Ziven glanced between the two of them, his brow furrowed. Their expressions were both off, and he wondered what they had been discussing.

"Ma'am, have you been feeling better these last couple of days?" he asked.

Latisha forced a smile and nodded to indicate that she had.

Ziven remained suspicious but didn't press the matter. He set out the food and as usual, waited for her to finish before leaving. Once he was back in his car he sat for a long time, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Finally, he pulled out his phone and called Clifford.

When the call connected, Ziven found himself at a loss for words. Before he could speak, he heard Yesenia's voice in the background. "Clifford, what are you doing over there? Someone's calling for you."

"Okay, you go on ahead," Clifford replied.

"Well, hurry up."

After a moment, Clifford's voice came through the line. "Ziven."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Lambert. When will you be returning?" Ziven asked, his eyes drifting toward the imposing villa. By now, Latisha was probably sitting on the sofa, staring into space again.

"In a couple of days. Is something wrong with Latisha?"

"Not exactly," Ziven said, choosing his words carefully. "It's just... I ran into her doctor again when I arrived. He been visiting quite frequently these past few days. Did you send for m?" He was probing, unsettled by the strange atmosphere he had witnessed earlier.

"Is Latisha feeling better?" Clifford asked, bypassing the question.

"She seems to be. But sir, with Ma'am staying home alone like this every day...

don't you think she might get bored?"

"Mind your own business," Clifford said flatly and hung up, giving Ziven no chance to reply.

Ziven stared at the disconnected

call, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

ет

He truly couldn't understand Mr. Lambert. His wife was ill, and yet he was off scouting locations with Yesenia. Sometimes, Ziven couldn't even tell who the man truly cared about.

...

Meanwhile, Yesenia returned to Clifford's side and linked her arm through his.

"Who was that calling you again?" she pouted. "You're here with me now. Can't you just stop thinking about that mute for a minute?"