Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 242

At last, a hoarse voice drifted from inside the room. “No. Not good.”

Was he ill?

“Sir, should I come in?” Fallon asked tentatively.

A faint grunt of assent came in reply.

Fallon stepped inside and was immediately struck by the sight: Theodore was still asleep. That was highly unusual. “Sir, are you feeling unwell?”

“Water…” Theodore’s voice was raw and scorched, his throat burning like fire. He’d forgotten all about water in his feverish sleep, and now, awake, that was all he wanted.

“All right, all right, just give me a second…” Fallon hurried out, asked her daughter to pour a glass of water, took it herself, and reminded the little girl to sit quietly and not touch anything. Limping slightly, Fallon carried the water back into the bedroom.

Theodore forced himself to sit up and take a sip, but even swallowing water sent shards of pain through his throat, as if he were swallowing knives.

Watching him wince, his face flushed deep red, Fallon’s instincts told her he was running a high fever. She fetched the digital thermometer and checked his temperature. Good grief—103.1°F.

As Theodore finished the water and lay back down, Fallon tried, “Sir, you have a high fever. I really think you should go to the hospital.”

He shook his head, refusing.

No matter how she pleaded, he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t even let her call a doctor to the house. Fallon grew anxious. Left with no other options, she rummaged through the medicine cabinet, thankful for her years of raising her daughter and caring for Emma; at least she had some basic nursing knowledge. She chose the appropriate medication and coaxed him to take it.

Groggy and barely coherent, Theodore swallowed the pills, then mumbled as he was drifting off, “Tell my wife to sleep in the guest room tonight—don’t let her catch this.”

Fallon stared at him, speechless.

The truth was, Fallon didn’t feel much sympathy for Theodore.

Yes, he’d hired her as a housekeeper, but after five years of living day in and day out with Emma, it was Emma’s plight that tugged at her heart. Still, Theodore had been good to her, and she truly was the housekeeper here. Given the situation, she wouldn’t be able to leave any time soon.

“Sir, dinner’s ready. Would you like to try a little?” Fallon asked softly.

Theodore had no appetite. His throat still felt like raw wounds; even the thought of swallowing solid food was agony.

Now a bit more lucid, Theodore finally seemed to notice her. His voice was still hoarse. “Why are you here?”

Fallon explained that she’d only come by to pick up her things.

“To pack up?” Theodore frowned slightly. “Where are you going?”

“I… I’m looking for another job.”

“You’re not taking care of my wife anymore?” His brow creased deeper. “Is it the pay? Do you want a raise?”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Fallon waved her hands quickly. The truth was, Mrs. Greene won’t be coming home again, sir.