Chapter 436

Nathan lowered his gaze, pressing his lips gently against Evelyn's forehead. He opened his mouth to speak when a violent coughing fit seized him.

Evelyn sprang up, her heart constricting with worry. "Nathan! What's wrong?"

Turning his face away, Nathan stifled the cough into his palm. His eyes widened slightly at the sticky crimson substance now staining his hand. Smoothing his expression, he clenched his fist before meeting her concerned gaze. "Just swallowed wrong, darling. Nothing serious."

Her lips pressed into a thin line of disbelief. "You're pale as a ghost. When was the last time you ate? Let me make you something."

Nathan's tired eyes softened. "Now that you mention it... I'd kill for your famous chicken soup." His voice carried that familiar teasing lilt, though weaker than usual.

Evelyn stood decisively. "Stay put. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

As she reached the doorway, she spotted Edmund lingering in the hall. "Uncle Edmund, could you keep an eye on him? Just until I get back?"

The older man nodded solemnly.

The moment Evelyn's footsteps faded, Edmund entered to find Nathan staring at his bloodied palm with eerie calm.

"Coughing up blood now, are we?" Edmund's voice was gruff with unspoken concern.

Nathan's fingers curled around the evidence. "Apparently so." His piercing gaze lifted. "You knew this would happen."

Edmund exhaled heavily. "Your condition's been deteriorating since the shooting."

A muscle twitched in Nathan's jaw. "Tell me straight - what's happening to me?"

The silence stretched between them before Edmund spoke the damning words. "It's the sleeper virus. The mutated strain."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Nathan's knuckles whitened around the bloodstained napkin. "Does Zoe know?"

"Only Dr. Raymond and I are aware." Edmund's voice dropped. "The original strain had a year-long incubation period. This variant... it's progressing at an alarming rate."

Nathan turned toward the window where the dying sunlight painted the sky in hues of blood and gold. He knew the statistics - no known cure, 100% mortality rate. The original creator of the antibody had vanished decades ago. Worst of all, the virus could transmit to intimate partners. Even with precautions, there remained that terrifying 0.9% risk.

"You're not planning to tell her." It wasn't a question.

Nathan's smile was bitter. "You know Evelyn. If she thought there was even a fraction of a chance..." His voice broke. "That woman would walk through hellfire barefoot if she thought it would save me."

Edwin handed him a fresh handkerchief. "Clean yourself up before she returns."

As Nathan wiped the blood from his fingers, his mind raced. "The bullet?"

Edwin nodded grimly. "Ballistic delivery. Someone wanted to make absolutely sure the virus took hold."

"The sleeper virus was supposed to be contained after the last outbreak." Nathan's voice turned dangerously quiet. "If they're weaponizing it again..."

"Then we're looking at another global catastrophe." Edwin's aged face was grave. "The original strain gave victims a year of perfect health before the collapse. This variant skips the grace period entirely."

Nathan's gaze dropped to his trembling hands - the first visible symptom of his body's impending failure. Somewhere in the kitchen, he could hear Evelyn humming as she cooked, blissfully unaware that their borrowed time was running out.