Meanwhile... In the suburbs, at the Luther Family villa.
"Has Camilla gone to the old house to see that old fool?"
"The drug..."
Margaret sat on the bed, her arm wrapped in bandages, her face pale and her gaze unfocused.
She looked utterly disheveled, a shadow of worry flickering across her weary expression.
"Will Camilla figure it out?"
Just the thought of that woman sent a chill down her spine, an instinctive wariness she couldn't shake.
"Relax, I've already double-checked.
There's no way,"
Norris reassured her, lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips.
"By the time anyone notices, it'll be too late—that old man will already be dead.
Now, eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
Margaret kept her mouth shut, her bloodshot eyes dark and unreadable, lost in some grim calculation.
"Margaret" Norris frowned, nudging the spoon closer.
"You need to keep your strength up.
At least take a few bites."
