38. Overthinking

Xavier felt a rush of anxiety as he arrived at his home—a grand, white mansion surrounded by meticulously manicured gardens and dense woods stretching across acres of land. His sleek, black shoes clicked against the stamped concrete driveway as he hurriedly ascended the steps leading to the white-marbled porch, striding swiftly through the entrance hall.

“Hazel!” he called out, his complexion drained and worn. Just an hour ago, he had received a phone call from Hazel’s school informing him that she had fallen ill, having vomited twice and running a high fever. Acting on his instructions, the bodyguard, who usually remained unseen to avoid disrupting Hazel’s daily routine, sprang into action and promptly brought her home.

When he had heard of what happened, Xavier had dropped everything he was doing, left his office in a rush and drove straight home, too. It took a few minutes longer than usual, what’s with the lunchtime rush?—but he made it as soon as he possibly could.

However, befor