Outside the ICU.
Finn Hawthorne paced back and forth, agitated.
Simon Shaw was getting dizzy watching him. "Third Young Master," he advised in a low voice, "our doctors are the best in the business. You shouldn't worry so much."
Finn Hawthorne snapped, "The best? Faye Vaughn just jumped in a river and got a chill. It was a minor thing, and they still managed to land her in the ICU! What kind of incompetent hacks are they?!"
Simon Shaw was speechless.
'And whose fault was that?'
'It was the Third Young Master's own damn fault.'
From the Third Young Master's anxious muttering, Simon had pieced it together: he had faked his own drowning to bait Miss Vaughn into jumping in the river to save him.
Miss Vaughn had even performed CPR on him—mouth-to-mouth and all.
'If President Hawthorne had seen that, I can't even imagine what he would have done. He'd probably want to shatter the Third Young Master's jaw.'
