"I'm going out for a bit, you guys chat."
Albert Brown got up; he needed to go to the Brown family home.
Amelia Sanchez asked, "Where are you going?"
"I have some matters to handle." Albert Brown got up and left, not looking back even when Amelia called out to him.
Amelia Sanchez looked at Oliver Foster: "He must be going to see Mrs. Brown; he said he was going to investigate the assassination attempt. Given his temperament, he probably is."
Amelia nodded, as if thinking of something, then gestured to Oliver Foster. With a smile on his face, he asked, "Aren't you worried?"
"What's there to worry about?"
Amelia barely had the strength to talk, let alone worry about Mrs. Brown.
She had nearly died; there was no more room for reservations, or she might have lost her life.
Amelia sighed and gazed at the dripping IV bag. Oliver walked over and sat beside Amelia on the large bed, which was big enough for two. Amelia felt a little weird, "What's wrong?"