For now

Marlowe headed to the dining room the next morning, a grave expression on her face and a few pieces of paper in her hands.

"Good morning, Mr. Draven, Adrian," she greeted when she saw them seated at their usual spots, plopping herself down on her seat.

"Morning, Marlowe."

"Morning, Doctor."

Lucian and Adrian responded almost at the same time.

"How do you feel this morning?" She directed her attention to Lucian, who was also observing her and trying to interpret the look on her face.

"I really do not know how I feel. But I think I'm a little better than yesterday," he responded truthfully, collecting a phone from Adrian, on which he was supposed to read something.

"Serena is not out yet?" Marlowe asked, and Lucian paused his reading, one corner of his lips lifting ever so slightly—it went unnoticed. He had been wondering about that look on her face when she had first asked him how he was feeling. Now he knew why.