Chapter 147 Marry Waverly

• Under the cold halo of the corridor's fluorescent strip lights, Asher's hand hovered above the phone screen. His slender fingers went still, the pale glow sharpening the knuckles as though time itself were holding its breath. He replied, "All right. Once I touch down tomorrow, I'll come straight over and pick you up."
• He had barely lowered the phone when the doors of the emergency suite burst open. The doctor stepped out, mask tugged down, fatigue etched into every line of his face; the look he gave Asher was anything but reassuring."Mr. Fullerton," he began, voice pitched low yet urgent, "your mother's situation is highly unusual. Each time she slips into a coma this deep, her will to live simply vanishes. Something must have triggered her. I checked her medical history—she suffers from severe depression, and that is not to be taken lightly."
• "I understand," Asher said, tone tight with contained worry. "How is she right now?"