Chapter 220

Prescott Ellington had been chatting with Dirk Hart and Paul Hartwell up on the rooftop for over two hours. When he finally stood up, a sudden sharp pain pierced his head, and everything went dark for a second. His tall frame wobbled slightly. "Prescott, you okay?" Paul, walking right beside him, reached out fast to steady him, clearly alarmed. His eyes behind the glasses were filled with concern. Is he about to have another episode? "Prescott," Dirk said, worry etching deep lines on his brow. Prescott lifted his gaze and gave them both a faint glance. "I'm fine." "Maybe let Theron check you out, just in case?" Paul suggested. Given how complicated Prescott's health was, Paul couldn’t take it lightly. Dirk nodded. "Paul's right. Better safe than sorry." "No need," Prescott brushed it off. He knew his body too well. This was probably just the side effects of the suppressant pill. He figured he'd just grit his teeth and tough it out. No reason to drag Theron into it. More than anything,