Casey was adamant about not going to the hospital; it was simply too much of a time suck. He had a mountain of tasks yet to tackle, and the thought of bumping into his folks left him scrambling for excuses. Yet, if he ignored his assistant''s warnings and his condition worsened, sumbing to illness would be far worse.


    If he was sick, who would hold the Dempsey family together? Who would watch over Izabe? He felt the weight of two burdens on his shoulders, and he couldn''t afford to drop either one.


    After a brief internal struggle, Casey decided to heed his assistant''s advice and get a medical check-up.


    Climbing into the car, he mustered the strength to text Izabe, letting her know he''d be workingte and wouldn''t be home.


    He couldn''t bring himself to tell her about the hospital visit; he didn''t want her to worry. Yet Izabe was sharp. He normally would call, but his voice was hoarse and weak, and he feared a text might prompt her to ring him up.


    He made sure his assistant understood, "Don''t tell Izabe about the hospital thing. If she calls or texts, just say I''m in a meeting."


    At the hospital, they went straight to the emergency department. The diagnosis was acute enterogastritis. Irregr meals and recent all-nighters had taken a toll on his health, and to top it off, they found traces of knockout drops in his blood.


    The dosage was enough to knock anyone out for a full day, and it was a wonder how Casey had managed to stay awake this long.


    The doctor, puzzled, asked, "What have you been eatingtely? How did you end up with malnutrition and low blood sugar?"


    Casey, eyes closed, didn''t respond. His assistant thought he might be asleep and spoke for him, "His diet has been off, mainly because Mr. Dempsey has been buried in work."


    "Work is no excuse to neglect your health. If this gets any worse, you could be vomiting blood and it won''t just be a hospital visit - you could be looking at a month-long stay. I''ve prescribed some medicine; a nurse will bring it shortly. You should look up a nutritious diet online and avoid any foods you shouldn''t eat. You need a good day''s rest, and oh," the doctor nearly forgot the most crucial piece of information. Since Casey was resting, the doctor spoke to the assistant, "We also found knockout dropsponents in your boss''s bloodstream, which is likely the main reason he''s here today."


    Sedatives plus an empty stomach and strong ck coffee were a recipe for disaster.


    "Knockout drops?" Who would consume those without cause? It seemed likely that someone had drugged him. The assistant''s mind raced with suspicion, initially suspecting corporate sabotage or theft of sensitive documents.


    But then it hit him - he was the one who handled Casey''s food and coffee. There was no chance for anyone else to tamper with them.


    Yet the evidence was clear. Who had the opportunity to drug Casey?


    Casey had barely drunk anything that day besides coffee. The assistant''s thoughts whirred, wondering if the drugging had urred before Casey arrived at the office.


    The most probable scenario pointed to his home, but only Izabe was there.


    The thought chilled the assistant to the bone. He nced at Casey, who was asleep on the bed, and then ushered the doctor out.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.


    With Casey''s phone in his


    possession, he saw Izabe''s photo as the wallpaper but didn''t know the passcode and couldn''t unlock it. Not that he would have invaded his boss''s privacy even if he could.


    Other than a few spam messages, there was nothing on the phone. An hour had passed since the text was sent, and Izabe hadn''t responded.


    When Casey finally awoke around five in the afternoon, after three hours of rest, he was still groggy, parched, and his chest burned.


    The assistant instantly offered him water, but Casey pushed away the helping hand; he wasn''t so weak that he needed assistance to drink. Propped up against the headboard, he caught his breath.


    "Mr. Dempsey, your water."


    Casey took the cup and drank eagerly, finishing it quickly.


    "More?" The assistant asked.


    Casey nodded and handed back the cup.


    After a few sips, his throat felt better, and he could speak. His first thought was of Izabe.


    "Did Izabe text? Did she call? Does


    she know I''m sick and in the


    vel.ne


    hospital?" He bombarded the assistant with questions, leaving him momentarily stunned.


    The assistant didn''t answer right away, refilling Casey''s cup before replying, "Mrs. Dempsey hasn''t. texted or called back. She might be busy and unaware of your hospital visit."


    Casey initially felt relieved, but as he noticed the darkening sky outside the window, a sense of unease washed over him.


    "How long was I out?"


    "Over three hours. It''s now half-past five."


    "My phone," Casey demanded, his voiceced with urgency.


    The assistant quickly handed him the device, watching as Casey swiped through it.


    Just as the assistant had said, no replies. This wasn''t like Izabe. Casey didn''t hesitate, calling her immediately.