Chapter 1932

Harvey left the bedroom door ajar, the soft, warm glow of the floor lamp casting gentle shadows across the room. He had intended only to glance inside, but the moment his eyes landed on the bed, his expression shifted from casual to shocked. Vivian lay there, dressed in an intricately detailed period costume. Her features were serene as if she were in the deepest sleep. "Vivian!" Harvey exclaimed as he rushed over to her. His voice, sharp and urgent, should have been enough to rouse even the deepest sleeper. But Vivian remained motionless, her breathing steady, lost in an unyielding slumber. Frowning with concern, Harvey grabbed a nearby infrared thermometer and checked her temperature—97.88°F, perfectly normal. Still, something was wrong. "Vivian?" He called again, but there was no response. Her complexion was pale, and she seemed to have lost weight. A pang of guilt gripped him; he had been downstairs, oblivious to her return. Even without a fever, his worry deepened. Going to