Chapter 389 The Collapse

Oliver held onto Isolde, practically carrying her into the carriage. As the driver set the wheels into motion, she leaned against him, her breath shallow, yet the pain seeped into her very bones, creeping through her body like a slow, consuming poison. For a long while, she said nothing. Then, finally, a single sentence left her lips, barely above a whisper. "Wasn't there supposed to be another month?"