Gillian stared at the message.
Her brows knit together in a tight frown.
Chloe had always been one to sugarcoat bad news, which meant the actual gossip spreading through the hospital was undoubtedly far more vicious.
[Do you know who started this?]
Right now, she needed to figure out what her enemies were plotting.
Susan had laid out a lavish breakfast spread. Gillian picked at her food while typing out her questions.
Chloe replied: [Whoever it is came prepared. The details are incredibly specific, and they even have photos. They're saying the moment you clock in this morning, the proof will be blasted to everyone.]
York watched Gillian completely ignore him in favor of her phone, his gaze turning icy.
In the past, whenever he came home, Gillian would greet him with a bright smile, take his bags, and fuss over him like a boundless ray of sunshine, always ready to pour him tea or massage his shoulders. She had seemed incapable of exhaustion.
But ever since Miles Stanton had returned—
York had had enough.
Gillian jumped at the deafening slam of the front door.
The impact was so violent it seemed to rattle the walls, driven by pure rage.
Gillian paused with her silverware in hand and glanced at the closed door.
She had no idea what had set him off this time. It was a good thing the door was solidly built, or he would have shattered it off its hinges by now.
After finishing her breakfast, Gillian got dressed for work as usual.
Hiding from malicious rumors wouldn't solve a damn thing.
Her enemies were clearly gunning for her, and she refused to sit at home like a sitting duck.
-
When she arrived at the hospital.

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