"Young master, your fever's getting worse. You really should go to the hospital. This might be serious!"
Everett frowned, clearly annoyed, and opened his eyes with a raspy voice. "Stop bothering me. Get out."
Tobias had no choice but to leave the room.
An hour passed.
Still no movement from inside.
Tobias paced anxiously in the hallway.
Another hour went by—it was already 4 p.m.
Still dead quiet. Everett hadn't had lunch. Was he really not hungry at all?
Tobias couldn't take it anymore and pushed open the door, only to see Everett's face flushed red like a blazing sunset.
He rushed over, pressed his hand to Everett's forehead, then yanked it back like he'd touched something burning. "God, that's bad! Young master, wake up! Come on, wake up!"
After Tobias called out a few more times, Everett finally opened his eyes in a daze. He tried to sit up but had no strength at all.
"Young master, your fever's really high. Here, take this thermometer."
