She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 97

Late into the night.

Nathan and Eleanor braved the pouring rain to rush to the hospital.

Lori met them by the elevators.

The moment Eleanor saw the secretary, she lost her composure. "How are Hilda and Annie? With something this serious happening, why is Luther's phone off? Doesn't he have a backup phone? Did you contact his staff? If you didn't go on the trip, surely you sent the junior secretary?"

Lori gave a slight shake of her head.

—In truth, Luther had explicitly told the junior secretary to stay behind.

Eleanor instantly understood.

Furious, she openly cursed her son. "He's a married man with a career! How can he still be so foolishly caught up in romance? If Hilda finds out and her heart turns cold, what then? It's not like she's desperately clinging to him."

Eleanor had a sharp eye.

She could easily see that Hilda wasn't driven by materialistic desires.

Even now, with Luther placing no restrictions on her spending, she was never extravagant. She only maintained the basic elegance expected of a woman in her position. Instead, she was deeply generous to the household staff, always willing to look out for them. As a result, the servants worked tirelessly, and the estate was immaculately run. Where else could they find such a perfect daughter-in-law?

Beside her, Nathan cut in. "Let's drop the lecturing for now and go check on the girls."

Eleanor matched her husband's hurried pace.

Behind them, Lori quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

...

The flu was aggressive.

Thankfully, Annie stabilized quickly after being given IV fever reducers.

Hilda, on the other hand, ran a severe fever for two straight days and nights.

She was practically delirious.

Hovering between wakefulness and sleep, she was bombarded by memories of the past—

She dreamed of her mother, spending year after year secluded in her prayer room.

She dreamed of making mistakes as a child and being punished by Mina Lovell, too terrified to tell Sylvan Cassidy, knowing it would cost her dinner. She dreamed of her teenage crush on Luther, of flying to Alpha City again and again, of his icy detachment on their wedding night...

The dreams were chaotic, fractured, and bizarre.

The final scene was Luther's wedding to Jolie.

Suddenly, her eyes locked onto the screen.

A gossip alert from a minor tabloid had popped up.

It featured her husband, Luther, with a young woman.

It wasn't a stranger. It was Jolie.

They were clearly in Southbridge City.

The two of them were standing intimately close, watching a fireworks display.

Luther was leaning against the ancient city wall, with Jolie standing right beside him, looking delicate and dependent, resting her chin on his shoulder.

The man's eyes were bright, and the woman looked devastatingly beautiful.

—They looked like a perfect match.

Hilda stared at the photo in dead silence for a few seconds before swiping the page away.

She figured she finally understood why Luther's phone had been turned off.