As expected, a few minutes later, the doctor came to examine him again.
This time, his face was swollen, and he was unable to speak. He was too drained to harass me any further.
I stayed in the hospital for a few more days until Erica called and told me to hurry back to work—Tyler had returned.
On the way back, I deliberately went to a flower shop, and by the time I got back to the villa, I was already covered in rashes.
"Jean Smith! What's wrong with you?"
Monica frowned and backed away a few steps, covering her nose as if I were the plague.
"Ma'am, I'm not sure what's happening, but it'll clear up quickly after I take some medicine. It won't affect my work."
"No way. Stay out of sight until you're better. Looking at you makes me sick."
Having achieved my goal, I bowed but didn't obediently return to my room.
Instead, I took the allergy medicine I'd prepared earlier and hid in the storage room on the second floor.
I squatted in that room for almost three hours, and my legs went completely numb.
There was a recording device under the dining table that could connect to my phone. When I heard the voices of the family of four, I quietly crept to the study door.