Page 66 of The Widower
“I’m sorry for calling you like that earlier.I must’ve sounded desperate.”
“Just a little.”
We both laughed.
“Jefrey, can I ask you for a favor?I need you to dig up some information for me on the deep web.”
For anyone who doesn’t know, the deep web is a place where you can find secret or sensitive information about pretty much anything. It’s like the regular internet is only 10% of what’s actually out there, and the deep web holds the other 90%. Something like that—I’m not exactly an expert. For people like me, poking around there is dangerous. But for my friend, who practically lives in that world, it’s no big deal.
At least, that’s what he says.
“Sure. About who?”
“My boss.I want to know what happened in his past.I feel bad for snooping, but… I don’t know.”
“We all do our digging somehow—whether it’s a family member, a celebrity, or some guy on Tinder. Don’t feel bad about it.”
“I’ve already searched the normal web, but I couldn’t find anything useful.”
“Lucky for you, you know me,” he teased.“There’s not much that gets past me.”
“That actually makes me feel better,” I said with a small smile and a sigh. “His name is Colin Adams. He’s a well-known architect here in the city.”
“Got it. I’ll put together a file and send it to you as soon as I can.”
“Jefrey… thank you. Really. I don’t even know how to repay you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve already helped me plenty, sweetheart.”
After I woke up, I went straight to Hanna’s room. She was lying there quietly, as usual. But when I tried to wake her, she barely moved—and that’s when I noticed her hair was a little damp.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked.
“My head feels weird,” she mumbled.
I touched her forehead, and my stomach dropped—she was burning up. I grabbed the thermometer right away and waited anxiously for it to beep. 102°F.
I went to talk to my mom, who immediately said, “If she gets worse, I’ll take her to the hospital, sweetheart. I’ve got the day off. Go to work, and I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Okay, Mom. Thank you.”
I left the house and headed toward the mansion, but deep down, worry gnawed at me the whole way.
Colin wouldn’t stop looking at me all morning, and I couldn’t figure out why. His expression was different—tense, almost worried.
After a while, he broke my focus on work and asked, “Where’s Hanna?”
There it was.
“She stayed home with my mom. She’s running a fever.”
“You should’ve brought her here. There are two hospitals nearby—excellent ones,” he said, clearly agitated.
“I don’t think—”
“How high?” he cut in.
“Almost 101°F, but—”
