The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1912

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Back in her room.

Stella lay motionless on the bed. Her body was burning up, her cheeks flushed a deep, feverish red.

Receiving the urgent call, the medical team rushed over.

And leading them was Roger.

"I'll take it from here. Give us the room."

Seeing her lying there so pale and frail, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her blankets. "Bring a few space heaters in here," he ordered, his voice raw.

"Right away."

The other doctors hadn't initially understood why he had sprinted all the way here with them.

But looking at the scene unfolding...

It all made sense.

Exchanging knowing glances, they set down their medical kits and quietly slipped out the door.

Stella had been struggling to acclimate to the new environment, barely eating, and she had caught a chill early that morning.

From her symptoms, it was obvious she had been sick for days and was simply running on empty until she finally crashed.

Roger dimmed the lights until the room was steeped in shadows, reducing his features to a mere silhouette.

Confident there wouldn't be any sudden complications, he rolled up his sleeves and opened the medical kit.

His movements were swift but incredibly gentle as he tended to her.

The moment the icy cooling patch touched her forehead, a violent shiver wrecked through her burning body.

Seconds later, her eyelids fluttered open, glassy and unfocused.

Exhausted and disoriented by the darkness, she couldn't make out the man sitting beside her.

She couldn't even tell if she was awake or trapped in a fever dream.

The world felt hollow, save for the relentless, splitting agony in her skull.

She thought... she was seeing Roger again.

Why was he haunting her every thought?

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