C13 I will Play with You Until You Are Tired of Me.

"I don't want to, I just don't," Edna insisted, shaking her head in refusal. She couldn't allow herself to fall for Helmer, not in the slightest.

Three years prior, Helmer had been a fixture in her heart, his overbearing presence driving her to flee Jongvale. Only after years of emotional recovery did she muster the courage to return. She was determined not to succumb to those feelings again.

"Edna, you have to fall in love with me," Helmer declared.

In agony, Edna pounded on Helmer's chest, her sweat-soaked body growing increasingly weak, her arms losing their strength.

Her protests dwindled to a whisper until Helmer's roar of frustration filled the room.

"Edna."

He hadn't even begun his next move when the woman before him collapsed. Helmer ceased his actions, realizing just how fragile she was.

Noticing her pallor and the sheen of sweat on her skin, panic flickered through Helmer for a moment.

"Edna," he called out, patting her cheek with a furrowed brow.

He quickly dialed the internal line, summoning Lena, "Get Ada here, to the lounge, now."

Ada arrived twenty minutes later, medical kit in hand. Entering the lounge, she was taken aback by the sight of Edna on the bed.

Oh my god!

Why had Helmer been so harsh? Who was this woman?

Ada's eyes, filled with reproach, met Helmer's as he sat on the sofa, his handsome features marred by worry.

Words of blame reached her lips, but Ada found herself speechless.

She conducted a thorough examination of Edna, maintaining silence throughout, matching the heavy stillness that Helmer cast over the room.

Finally, Ada checked Edna's temperature and set up an IV to reduce her fever.

"She's caught a chill, running a fever of 38.7," Ada reported, her gaze narrowing as she looked at Helmer. "And her constitution is incredibly weak."

Fever? Weak constitution?

Helmer struggled to reconcile this diagnosis with the Edna he remembered, whose health had always seemed impeccable.

And just yesterday, she had been so full of life. How could she have fallen ill so suddenly?

Boom!

A thought struck Helmer suddenly. After receiving Edith's call last night, he had left Edna on the coastal ring road. In Jongvale, the temperature difference between day and night was stark.

"If she's in poor health, she needs nutritional supplements," Helmer said, casually crossing his legs and resting his hands on his abdomen.

"I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker. She hasn't been in this state just recently," Ada said with a cold laugh.

"Let's speculate on why her health is failing," Ada mused, removing her medical gloves. "It could be due to an illness, or perhaps poor nutrition from bad food in the past."

Glancing at Edna lying on the bed, Ada added, "Continuing like this could further weaken her constitution."

"Mr. Andrews, if you care about this woman, you should really take her to the hospital for a thorough check-up." Ada's concern was evident as she observed Edna's pallor.

Helmer's gaze swept over Edna with a detached air. Over the past three years, he had repeatedly looked into Edna's circumstances abroad.

In Paris, her life had been tough—poor food, shabby clothes, substandard living conditions.

"Could she die?"

"Do you want her to die?" Ada's lips twisted into a scornful smile. Lena had mentioned how frantic Helmer was on the phone—clearly, he was deeply concerned for Edna.

"You're talking too much."

In Helmer's view, it wasn't a serious matter as long as it wasn't life-threatening.

Yet, seeing Edna's wan face and hearing the figure 38.7 from Ada, a stir of emotion rippled through Helmer's usually impassive heart.

Ada shook her head in resignation, noting the growing edge in Helmer's temper.

She placed two boxes of medicine on the nightstand and thoughtfully poured some hot water. "She should take two pills when she wakes up, morning and evening."

"Keep the air conditioning on; she needs to sweat it out."

After briefing Helmer, Ada left the lounge with her medical kit.

Helmer needed his space.

And she had no desire to stay in this oppressive room, enduring Helmer's glowering presence.

Helmer approached the bed, looking down imperiously at Edna. Her persistence in working through a high fever was baffling. Was she hoping to die on the job and cash in on their insurance?

Helmer sparked a cigarette, and as the smoke wreathed around him, his features softened somewhat.

While she was ill in Paris, had anyone been concerned for her wellbeing?