Claire Prescott turned her eyes to Keane Lowell and noticed his complexion didn't look well.
But it was different from Assistant Cheney.
He seemed ill, with dark circles and weariness around his eyes.
"Are you feeling unwell?" she asked.
Keane Lowell seemed to find her unbelievable, "How did you figure it out?"
"Forgot I'm a traditional Chinese medicine doctor?" Claire leaned forward, gently took his hand, and placed it on the table, "Let me check your pulse."
Before she could adjust her position, the man blocked his pulse, holding her fingertips.
Claire Prescott looked up, meeting his deep eyes.
Keane Lowell spoke, "It's just a cold."
Claire's tone instinctively softened, "Did you get chilled last night?"
"Hmm."
"Did you take medicine?"
"I did."
Inexplicably obedient.
