The atmosphere in the Lee dining hall the next morning was thicker and heavier than the day before. The clinking of silverware was the only sound, a stark contrast to the silent anxiety gripping everyone.
Rinwoo still hadn't woken up.
Mr. Lee sat at the head of the table, his expression a dark cloud. The doctor had visited again at dawn, his prognosis unchanged: severe physical and emotional exhaustion, requiring rest and careful monitoring. To the patriarch, it sounded like a feeble excuse.
"A grown man," Mr. Lee stated, his voice cold and dismissive as he stirred his tea. "Fainting like a delicate flower. Nosebleeds. It's a lack of fortitude. What if he is simply using this as a way to shirk his duties? To avoid the responsibilities of this household?"
