Chapter 4

Callum didn't give Roxanne the slightest chance to defend herself. He scooped Zoey up in his arms and declared, "I'm taking you to the hospital." Nestled against his chest, Zoey eyed Roxanne cautiously. "But… what about Roxanne?" Without sparing Roxanne another glance, he said coldly, "She can walk home by herself." As she watched the two of them hurry off, Roxanne stood frozen in the empty bookstore, her whole body chilled to the bone. Explain? What was there to explain? The moment he saw Zoey tumble down the stairs, he had already condemned her. His eyes had burned with such rage as if he wanted to tear her apart. How could he possibly believe a single word she said? At some point, rain had begun to fall outside, a steady drizzle that seeped chill into her bones. Roxanne trudged back to the base housing, braving the rain. Her clothes were soaked through, and her cold shoes chafed her feet raw with blisters. Every step she took sent a stabbing pain through her, leaving her in a pitiful, miserable state. She finally made it to the door, but the sight that greeted her when she pushed it open plunged her into deeper despair. Callum was on his knees in front of the couch, carefully tending to the scrape on Zoey's knee. His movements were gentle and focused, his profile showing a tenderness she had never seen before. Zoey soon spotted Roxanne, who was standing at the door, dripping wet. She immediately acted startled, pulling her leg back. "Callum… I think I'd better do it on my own. Roxanne's back. I won't look good if she sees this…" Without lifting his head, he retorted coldly, "She's the reason you're hurt. What right does she have to be upset?" Those words were the final straw, shattering the last bit of hope Roxanne had. Her chest went numb with pain as she quietly turned and returned to her cold, empty room. After taking a hot shower to shake off some of the chill and exhaustion, she stepped out of the bathroom, only to see Callum holding her thick quilt and the small heater from her bed, about to head out. "What do you think you're doing with my things?" Her voice trembled from both the cold and disbelief. He stopped in his tracks. "Zoey's afraid of the cold. The quilt in her room is too thin, so I'm taking these over for her." "What about me?" Roxanne stared at him, unable to believe what she'd just heard. Callum frowned, as if her question was absurd. "Haven't you always been healthy? Even if you come down with something, the worst that could happen is you rest for a few days and don't do as much around the house. "Zoey's different. She's an important researcher. If she falls ill, it could delay a national project! Can't you tell which is more important?" With that, he carried her quilt and heater straight into Zoey's room. That night, the cold wind seeped in through the cracks in the window. Roxanne curled up under the thin sheet, shivering from the chill. … The following day, she came down with a high fever. When Zoey knocked on her door, Roxanne was barely conscious, sinking in a feverish haze. "Roxanne? Are you awake? Come out and have breakfast!" Zoey called out through the door. Roxanne gathered what little strength she had, her voice hoarse and weak. "I… I don't feel so good. I have a fever…" There was a brief silence outside before Zoey urgently called out, "Callum! Come quickly! Roxanne says she has a fever!" Almost immediately, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. The very next second, the door to Roxanne's room was flung open, and Callum's tall figure filled the doorway, his presence cool and forbidding. His sharp gaze swept over Roxanne, who was curled up in bed with a flushed face, and his brows knitted. However, what he did next sent her heart plunging into a frozen pit. In one swift move, he yanked Zoey behind him, shielding her as though Roxanne were some deadly virus. "Since you're running a high fever, you should stay in your room for the next few days. Don't come out and risk infecting Zoey." Roxanne parted her lips, but her throat felt scoured raw, and she couldn't force out a single clear syllable. All she wanted to say was that she needed medicine, water, and a little concern. However, he didn't give her the chance. He took a step back and gripped the doorknob. With a sharp click, he locked the door from the outside.