Chapter 290: Chapter 290: One Foot in the Hall of Yama
The woman teased, "It certainly seems that way. Reporter Sinclair, are you his girlfriend?"
"I’m not."
The woman laughed to herself. "Haha, you two look great together."
’Her and Teacher Hartwell? A good match???’
’We’re not a match at all, from our hair down to our toes!’
Claire Sinclair smiled. "Ma’am, please don’t joke around. I already have someone I like."
"Ah, what a pity." The woman set the child on the floor and handed them the lunch box. "Joy, take this to Sinclair and tell her thank you for her hard work."
Joy nodded, obediently took the lunch box, and handed it to Claire Sinclair. "Sinclair, thank you for your hard work."
"It was no trouble at all. Thank you, Joy!" Claire Sinclair gladly took the lunch box, then looked up at the woman. "Ma’am, have you eaten yet?"
"We’ve already eaten. I also saved a lunch box for Mr. Hartwell. I’ll bring it over when he wakes up. There are no food warmers here, so I’ve kept his in mine."
"Then I’ll thank you on Teacher Hartwell’s behalf."
"Nothing to thank me for. You’ve all helped us so much; we should be the ones thanking you..."
After some more polite back-and-forth, Claire Sinclair, who was absolutely starving, simply started eating as they continued to exchange courtesies.
When she was finished, the woman thoughtfully took the empty container with her.
Only the two of them remained in the medical room.
Claire Sinclair sat quietly by the bed. With no phone to occupy her, she was terribly bored. After sitting for so long, she couldn’t help but doze off...
Unbeknownst to her, the man on the bed had quietly opened his eyes.
Seeing her pure, lovely, and drowsy face, Henry Hartwell shook his aching head. He tried to sit up, but he didn’t have the strength, so he eventually gave up on the idea.
He was about to wake her, but seeing how soundly she was sleeping, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
’This girl is really something else,’ he thought. ’Chasing a man all the way out here... If Young Master Quincy found out, he’d be ecstatic.’
As he was lost in thought, the girl’s head suddenly wobbled. She had been propping it up with her hand, but it looked as if it were about to slip. Several times, she nearly toppled onto his broken leg.
Henry Hartwell’s heart clenched. Mustering strength from who-knows-where, he sat up and reached out to steady her head. "Claire Sinclair," he said, "it’s morning."
"Ah, it’s morning!" Claire Sinclair jolted awake. It took her a moment of looking around to get her bearings before she raised an eyebrow. "Teacher Hartwell, you’re awake? Why didn’t you say anything?"
Henry Hartwell teased her, "You were sleeping like a pig. There was no waking you."
"You’re the pig!" Claire Sinclair shot back, rolling her eyes at him.
’Still, if he has the energy to joke around, he must be mostly recovered.’
"Teacher Hartwell, does your head still hurt?"
"It doesn’t hurt anymore, but I’m still a little dizzy. Is there anything to eat? Get me something, I’m starving to death."
"Yes, yes, of course! I’ll go get it for you right now."
With that, Claire Sinclair turned and left.
Henry Hartwell’s head was throbbing, so he just lay back down.
Before long, Claire Sinclair returned with the lunch box. When she saw he had fallen asleep again, she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
’Is this guy for real?’
...
Only later did Claire Sinclair learn that Henry Hartwell had had one foot in the Hall of Yama back then. It wasn’t a common cold or a fever—it was tetanus.
Fortunately, a doctor on the volunteer team noticed the abnormality in time and had a rescue helicopter fly him to a nearby hospital. If they had been just one day later, it would have been too late to save him.
Before he left, Henry Hartwell, still smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world, left Claire Sinclair with a few words: "You should be able to get a signal to contact Young Master Quincy. Use my computer to reach him and publish the report on Garlan Town’s situation. I’ve already done the first part of the feature; you finish the rest. You have to be quick. Once the floodwaters recede, public enthusiasm will fade, too..."
