Far behind, in another car trailing Ash's mother, Bravin raised his phone and made a call.
"Sir," he said after a click, "I don't know what's happening. It seems either Young Master Ash or his mother is unwell."
Adrian's voice came through, steady but alert. "Why do you say that?"
"As usual, after school they should've taken the road home," Bravin replied. "But today...they went toward a hospital."
"Hospital?" Adrian repeated. "Which hospital?"
Bravin squinted through the windshield, trying to read the faded sign of a shadowing building. "It's called...Ba-ck Street Me-di-cal."
Adrian frowned. "What a strange name. I've never heard of it before. If one of them was sick, they'd have called our family doctor, or gone to the national hospital. Why there?"
"I don't know, sir..." Bravin began, then froze. Ahead, he saw two men in white coats carrying Ash's limp body into the building. "Sir, something's wrong. Young Master looks unconscious."
