Chapter 172

Was this a dream or real life? Am I so out of it from the fever that I'm hallucinating Ronald Wright standing in my hotel room? He stared at me, lips moving slowly. "This hotel belongs to me. Heard you were dying. Just came to make sure you don’t croak here and mess up my business." I almost laughed out loud. Dream or reality, that’s exactly the kind of thing Ronald would say—always had a sharp tongue. I shut my eyes, throat burning, voice hoarse. "It’s just the flu, not fatal. Won’t kill me or your profits. *Cough* You can go now." From what I overheard earlier, it’s probably the flu strain going around. In our past life, he caught it too—I took care of him, and I know how rough it gets. Days of high fever, no appetite, fatigue...all you can really do is sleep it off. But he didn’t leave. No mask, no nothing. Just calmly called room service for porridge, meds, and cooling patches. While waiting, he pressed a cold towel to my forehead and sat there without saying a word. My throat was