"I’m having a bout of diarrhea, Sir!" I blurted out, a desperate attempt to deflect his suspicion. "Please forgive my tardiness. My... my stomach was in absolute knots," I added, weaving a frantic excuse.Mr. Jefri nodded, maintaining a polite distance. "In that case, please wait in the living room. I’ll prepare an oral rehydration solution so you don't grow any weaker."I gave a frantic nod and practically scurried to the living room. My breath was short, and sweat poured off me despite the cool, conditioned air of the house. It was the sheer weight of my anxiety manifesting physically.Before long, Mr. Jefri returned with a glass of the solution. He set it before me. "Drink up..." he said, reclaiming his seat.I nodded, flashing a nervous, fragile smile. "Thank you, Sir..."My hand trembled as I reached for the glass. How could it not? Mr. Jefri’s gaze was fixed on me, a constant weight that made my skin crawl with unease.I took a small sip and set the glass back on the table, shif
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