Earlier…Ash had already felt nauseous by lunchtime, assuming it was due to the raw oysters he had eaten.By the time his afternoon meeting ended, he was dizzy and weak. A quick temperature check showed 39.8°C.His secretary had insisted on taking him to the hospital, but he refused, instructing the driver to take him back to the house he once shared with Justine.Martha, in a flurry, searched for medicine.As Ash sat on the couch, he watched her open the cabinet filled with various household essentials.Soon, she found the fever reducer and handed it to him, muttering, "Good thing Mrs. Vanderbilt sorted all the medications and labeled them. If not, I wouldn’t have known which one to give you."He said nothing, silently taking the medicine, then walked over to the cabinet.His face remained grave as he opened it, revealing neatly labeled sections—each bearing Justine's elegant handwriting.In better days, back when he and Justine would still have casual "conversations", he had
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