"Yes," Jonathan answered shortly.
Zee let out a long breath, letting her body go limp on the mat. See? Nothing like the dream, she muttered, a small smile forming on her face.
Zee turned to look at Jonathan. His face looked unusually pale.
Without thinking, Zee reflexively pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.
"My goodness, you have a fever," Zee's voice was strained, thick with concern.
"Ah, just a bit of the flu," Jonathan replied. He slowly moved Zee's hand away, but the brief contact was enough to transmit his searing body heat.
"But... your fever is very high," Zee insisted, stepping a centimeter closer, worried.
Jonathan pulled back. "I'm going to go straight home and rest. Don't worry. See you tomorrow, Zee," he said, his voice raspy and weak. He turned and left immediately, leaving Zee standing alone, staring blankly at his retreating back.
Inside the smoothly moving luxury car, Sella clung tightly to Andreuw's arm.
