"Huh?" Amanda froze for a few seconds before she responded. She hurriedly got up, "Are you okay?"
Joan said, "No."
Touching the collar of his bathrobe, she noticed that the skin exposed was red. She hurriedly turned
around, and said, with her back to him, "Hurry up and get dressed. I'll take you to the hospital."
With that, she walked quickly out of the room, while saying as she closed the door, "I'll meet you at the
door."
The door to the room closed with a click. Joan sat down on the floor and did not get up immediately. He
was a little unconscious and just felt hot. It was clear that the air conditioning was sending out a cool
breeze. He tugged at his collar and stood up holding down the sofa, then picked up the phone on the
table and called Amanda.
The call was soon answered.
"Amanda, you go back and rest. I'm fine." Joan said.
He walked over to the mirror, feeling that he was really woefully out of shape in this state.
He didn't quite want Amanda to see him in such an abnormal state.
Joan didn't know what was going on with him, but Amanda could see it. How could Atwood just coax
Hilary over and not do anything else?
"I'm at ..."
Amanda was just about to say that she was waiting for him at the door when the phone was hung up.
Inside the room, Joan threw his phone onto the bed and went to the bathroom. He felt the heat on his
body almost consume him and he just couldn't take it anymore. So he went into the bathroom and
turned on the shower.
The cold water kept falling from the shower and soon he was wet.
Amanda was worried and called him back. But when the call came through, there was no answer.
The sound of the rushing water drowned out the ringing of the phone.
Worried that something had happened to Joan, Amanda went downstairs to find the receptionist.
Once the hotel door was closed, it could only be opened from the inside.
So she had to ask for help from the hotel staff.
But the receptionist did not agree to open the door and gave the reason, "We have rules in the hotel
that we are not allowed to give out guest information. We can't open the door for you."
"His life could be in danger." Amanda spoke coldly, "If he dies, are you responsible?"
The receptionist was instantly speechless. It was a responsibility she couldn't afford, and it was no
small responsibility for the hotel.
"I'll ask the manager, okay?" The receptionist asked.
"Please hurry up." She was anxious.
"Okay." The receptionist called and asked for the manager's opinion. With permission, she showed
Amanda to the door.
The door to the room opened and she pushed it in.
The whole room was silent. She took a few steps, "Joan?"
But there was no response.
She gently pushed open the bedroom door and looked around the room, but did not see him.
She walked in and whispered his name, "Joan?"
The bathroom door was closed and there seemed to be someone inside. She pulled open the
bathroom door and finally saw Joan.
His robe was soaking wet, his hair was dripping, and the floor was wet.
He was sitting on the floor against the wall.
Even though his mind had been cleared by the cold water for a long time, the unknown fire inside him
had not been completely doused.
He raised his eyes from his wet hair. Seeing it was her, his eyes narrowed slightly, "How could you get
in here?"
She stood in the doorway, "I was afraid something would happen to you." She walked in and held his
arm, "You'll get sick like that. It would be better for you to go to the hospital."
Joan looked at her, "Are you concerned about me?"
"Of course. You're like this because of me. I'm responsible for your personal safety ..."
He suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her while his deep eyes glowed with light. He
slowly moved up to her ear and said, "I want to kiss you."
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