A Regret too Late
Kneeling by the toilet, she vomited up mouthfuls of water.
The vomiting echoed downstairs. Richard's face tightened, and he hurried upstairs.
Behind him, Eleanor's weak voice drifted. "Richard…"
He stopped, frowning. "What's wrong?"
Jonathan, forgetting his own injury, rushed to support Eleanor. "Are you okay?"
Eleanor swayed, collapsed onto the sofa, and her breathing quickened. Clutching her chest, she gasped, "My…my chest, it hurts… so much…"
Mr. Graham cried, "Ms. Eleanor has heart disease, right? Is she having an attack? Sir, what should we do?"
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