Having won several rounds in a row, Noah Carter was growing bored.
"Is your card game that weak? Spent all your skills on the tea ceremony?" His comment was a double entendre, mocking Nathan Bolton's acting skills.
Nathan Bolton wasn't angered, "She doesn't like playing cards."
Noah's hand paused; he really didn't know that.
"If she doesn't like it, I couldn't care less about it."
"..." There was no point continuing the game.
Four hours later, the door to the operating room opened.
Lorraine Hughes stepped out, her eyes red-rimmed and looking weary.
Nathan Bolton went over and put his arm around her waist, letting her lean on him. "Exhausted? I had someone prepare some food for you. Want to eat and then take a rest?"
Noah, who was a step slower: ...
Lorraine nodded and told Noah, "Out of danger, Frederic Clarke is doing the final stitching."
"You've worked hard."
Lorraine went to rest with Nathan, while Noah turned to check on The Devil.
