Yara Quillan took Henry Lester from the waiter, pulling him against her. She saw his strong brows furrowed deeply, his dry lips pressed into a tight line. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.
"Henry Lester, wake up! What's wrong?" Yara Quillan anxiously tried to lead Henry Lester outside to take him to the hospital.
Just as she pulled him up, she heard his low, muffled voice say, "Baby, I'm sorry..."
Henry Lester had a fever. On top of that, his chronic stomach problems had flared up. By the time they got him to the hospital, he had already fallen unconscious.
Yara Quillan sat outside the emergency room, her mind a complete blank.
'I'm obviously so scared of him. I obviously don't want anything to do with him anymore. But... why does seeing him like this make me so worried? Why does it hurt so much...'
'Henry Lester, you're so strong. How could you let yourself end up like this?'
'I shouldn't care about him. He's so hateful, so terrifying.'
