Chapter 170: Unseen Tensions
If only Harry hadn’t run away all those years ago, things would have turned out so differently. He wouldn’t have ended up with a fractured bone, and he wouldn’t be stuck at home now, being babied by Marigold around the clock. The weight of this situation pressed on him, making him feel more helpless with each passing day.
As he sat down to eat, Marigold sat across from him, her eyes never leaving him. It felt suffocating. “Grandma, you should eat too,” Harry said, trying to mask his discomfort. “Stop staring at me. It’s ruining my appetite.”
He almost wanted to cry from the tension, but instead, he gritted his teeth. “Just treat me like I’m invisible. You eat your food, don’t mind me.”
Marigold, however, remained fixated on him, unbothered by his request. It was hard to understand why she couldn’t just leave him be.
Suddenly, Joe burst into the room, his voice loud and urgent. “Mrs. Marigold, Mrs. Marigold!”
Marigold turned to Harry with a smile. “Caspian, take your time eating. I’ll be right back,” she said before stepping away to speak with Joe.
Harry wasted no time. He shoved food into his mouth, desperate to finish his meal before Marigold returned. The tension in the air only worsened with her absence.
Joe was speaking in a low voice, but Harry could catch snippets of their conversation. Marigold was asking about Stellan Storm, a name Harry didn’t recognize, but one that seemed important to his grandmother.
Joe had checked immigration and hotel records for the past year and found nothing. No sign of Stellan Storm anywhere.
“Could she have changed her name?” Joe speculated.
Marigold frowned. “That’s possible.”
“If that’s the case, it’ll be difficult to find her,” Joe warned.
“Difficult or not, you must find her for me,” Marigold insisted. “I need to find my two grandchildren who are wandering out there.”
Joe suggested posting a missing person notice, but Marigold shot him down immediately. “No. I don’t need her finding me. I need to find her.”
With Joe’s reluctance to leave things unresolved, he asked what else he should do. Marigold’s tone was stern. “Think of something, Joe. I want results. You couldn’t find Dr. Robert, and now you can’t find Stellan Storm. What good are you to me if you can’t do anything?”
Joe, clearly flustered, promised to come up with a solution. But before he could leave, there was more news to absorb.
“Mrs. Marigold,” Joe said quietly, “I heard that Ravenna is critically ill and has been moved to the ICU.”
“What? Ravenna?” Marigold was taken aback. “Isn’t her condition stable?”
“I don’t know. But she suddenly became critically ill yesterday,” Joe explained.
Marigold paused for a moment, thinking, before she issued a quick command. “Prepare some gifts. I’ll go to the hospital to see her.”
Ravenna’s sudden decline had taken everyone by surprise, and Marigold hadn’t had the chance to visit her since the news broke. Now, with her in the ICU, it felt like the right time.
As Joe gathered the gifts, Harry perked up at the mention of the hospital. He was eager for the change of pace. “Grandma, you’re going out?” he asked with more enthusiasm than he meant to show.
“Yes, to visit a patient at the hospital,” Marigold replied, her tone neutral.
Harry tried to hide his excitement, but Marigold saw right through him. “You’re so happy that I’m going out,” she remarked, her sharp eyes catching his sudden shift in mood.
Caught off guard, Harry straightened up quickly. “No, I just think it’s important to visit a patient,” he said, attempting to explain himself.
Marigold didn’t miss the hint of guilt in his voice. After a moment’s thought, she made a decision. “Joe, take the gifts to the hospital. I won’t be going.”
Harry’s heart sank. He hadn’t meant for things to unfold like this.
“Grandma, it’s insincere not to visit in person,” Harry grumbled, trying to soften the blow.
Marigold, however, was resolute. “It’s the thought that counts,” she replied, sitting down on the sofa with a sigh. “I’m not going because I’m worried about you. I can’t have you running away from home again.”
Harry froze, the weight of her words hitting him hard. “Grandma, I was just kidding last time. How could I really run away?” he said quickly, but his voice lacked conviction.
“You’ve run away twice before,” Marigold pointed out, her tone sharp. “What if next time, we can’t find you? I can’t risk that.”
Harry bit his lip. There was nothing more to say. He was stuck for now, at least until he could recover and get back to school. Then, maybe, he could finally escape the overwhelming presence of Marigold.
Later That Day
Galatea had been waiting for Alaric all morning, but he had been buried in work. Finally, when he finished, she was ready. The medical kit was laid out, and she knew the time had come.
“I’ve delegated everything,” Alaric said, his voice resigned. “Let’s begin.”
Galatea nodded and locked the lounge door, making sure they wouldn’t be interrupted. “Lie down,” she instructed him.
Alaric obeyed without hesitation, and she prepared a syringe. “This medication has some side effects, but everyone reacts differently. I’ll start with a test dose to see how you respond before we proceed with the full treatment.”
“I don’t really understand, but I trust you,” Alaric replied, his voice calm.
“Thank you for trusting me, Mr. Alaric. I’ll make sure you stay healthy,” Galatea said as she prepared the injection.
Alaric smiled faintly, his calm demeanor never wavering. “Go ahead.”
The needle pierced his skin, and almost immediately, Alaric’s body began to react. He winced, feeling soreness spread through his muscles, and a wave of nausea hit him hard.
Galatea quickly helped him sit up as he started retching, but nothing came out.
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern flooding her voice. “How do you feel?”
“I’m sore all over. I feel weak… and nauseous,” Alaric replied, his voice strained but steady.
Galatea poured him a glass of water, trying to soothe him. “These are normal reactions. Just bear with it. If you need anything, let me know.”
Alaric nodded, his pride not allowing him to show how much discomfort he was truly in. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Although Alaric tried to downplay it, Galatea couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Watching him suffer, even in small ways, made her wish she could do more.
Just as Galatea was about to speak again, there was a knock at the door.
“Is Mr. Alaric not here today?” It was Ambrose’s voice, coming from outside the door.