Chapter 95

The grand entry hall of the Vandermere estate welcomed us with its silent luxury, the marble floors reflecting our figures like discreet mirrors. Gideon kept his hand at my back, a gesture of support that had become almost instinctive over the past few hours.

"Viral infection," he said, repeating Dr. Aris's diagnosis as if still processing it. "At least now we know what's been causing the nausea."