CHAPTER 93: CHAPTER 93: YOU’RE LYING

"Wake up," Jared Quinn’s large hand touched her arm, and all he felt was the unusually scorching skin.

Jared Quinn’s expression darkened as his hand touched her forehead; she was indeed burning with fever.

"Butler, call Dr. Mo over."

Suddenly, a roar came from upstairs. The butler had just stepped out the door when he remembered that Dr. Mo was on a business trip; he was abroad now. He rushed upstairs, saying, "Young Master, Dr. Mo is on a business trip. Shouldn’t we go directly to the hospital quickly?"

Jared Quinn’s brows furrowed momentarily. He pulled the blanket over her and was about to pick her up.

Melody Thorne was awakened by his scream. She opened her mouth, only to find her throat painfully dry.

"Water, water," Melody Thorne reached out and grabbed Jared Quinn’s clothes, feeling intense discomfort throughout her body.

Jared Quinn stood still. The butler handed over a glass of water. Melody Thorne wanted to reach out to take it but found she had no strength at all and couldn’t even lift her hand.

The butler wiped away sweat, thinking he couldn’t just drag Melody Thorne up to drink water.

"Young Master, Young Master," the butler handed over the glass of water tearfully.

It took Jared Quinn three seconds to take the water from the butler’s hands and half-carry Melody Thorne to feed her.

"To the hospital, prepare the car."

"Yes."

"No," Melody Thorne struggled slightly. She was most afraid of that dreadful place—the hospital.

She often clung to Jared Quinn. Once, when he got injured, she went to the hospital to secretly see him, hiding in his room’s bathroom. Later, when he found her, he had her thrown into a mental institution, saying she had mental issues.

The staff at the mental institution howled like ghosts around her ears that day, frightening her and leaving a heavy shadow in her heart. Therefore, she would rather die than go to that kind of place.

"No, no, let me go," Melody Thorne rasped as she struggled violently.

"Melody Thorne!" Jared Quinn, with a hint of anger, pressed her onto the big bed, holding down her flailing arms, "You must go!"

"No, no, no, I won’t go," Melody Thorne avoided him. Perhaps because she was sick, her heart was extraordinarily fragile, with tears coming immediately.

Jared Quinn hadn’t seen her cry before. When he first noticed her, she was like a cunning little fox—adorably sly and detestable. Now, seeing her cry really struck his strong heart for some unexplainable reason.

The butler looked at them, feeling stuck—neither leaving nor staying seemed right. Watching his young master’s actions, he just wanted to silently scream a few words, Young Master,

Be gentle, gentle, gentle...

"Why," Jared Quinn finally calmed down, looking at the girl crying uncontrollably beneath him.

"I don’t want to go to the mental institution. I don’t want to go. Go away, go away, I don’t want you to lock me up," Melody Thorne pushed and refused with all her strength.

Upon hearing her ridiculous and absurd reason, Jared Quinn pinched his brow, thinking maybe she was too feverish and talking nonsense.

When did he ever lock her in a mental institution?

The butler was also slightly stunned; he could attest that such a thing never happened.

"No locking," Jared Quinn calmed himself, scooped her up with the blanket, and said coldly with a lowered voice.

"You’re lying," Melody Thorne continued to cry—he clearly had done it before.