Chapter 4

Reading their envious, teasing comments, Ethan chuckled aloud.

"Face card never declines, boys! The landlady liked my looks, simple as that. Can't help being naturally blessed!"

Over the next few days, Ethan moved all his belongings in.

Just as promised, Vivienne barely disturbed him, only shooting him a text every couple of days.

"Settling in alright?"

"Temperature is dropping these days. Make sure to turn on the radiant heating. The control panel is on the living room wall."

"If you notice the flowers in the yard drying out, could you give them some water for me?"

Ethan always replied promptly and politely, thanking her every time.

Everything was going swimmingly. But about a week into his stay, things began to shift.

He woke up one morning feeling completely devoid of his usual refreshed energy.

Instead, a bizarre, suffocating fatigue weighed him down, as if he had just run a nighttime marathon. His limbs felt like lead, protesting every single movement.

His head felt hazy—not the throbbing ache of sleep deprivation, but a hollow, disorienting fog.

Assuming he was just taking time to adjust to the new environment, or that the excitement of moving had caught up with him, he dragged himself out of bed.

While brushing his teeth, he stared at his reflection. His face looked slightly pale, with faint shadows bruising the skin under his eyes.

"Must just be poor sleep," he muttered to himself.

Over the following days, the exhaustion didn't fade; it intensified.

His appetite dropped off a cliff. He lost interest in his favorite foods and felt a wave of nausea whenever he caught the smell of cooking oil.

Focusing became a battle. Staring at his phone or laptop screen for even a short while left his eyes stinging and his dizziness worsening.

He had to cut back on his job interviews and spent most of his days resting on the couch.

Yet rest brought no relief. The house was enormous and eerily quiet—so quiet that it made his skin crawl.

The vast emptiness felt like a physical weight, pressing down on his chest.

Another week passed. Along with the perpetual weakness and vertigo, new symptoms cropped up.

Out of nowhere, whether sitting or lying down, his heart would suddenly flutter and race, leaving him breathless and gripped by a fleeting surge of panic.

His complexion deteriorated visibly. The dark circles under his eyes deepened into sunken bruises. His once bright, lively gaze turned dull and lifeless. He looked completely worn down.

"I need to see a doctor," he finally decided.

He figured it was just burnout from job-hunting stress and an erratic schedule, or maybe the onset of a stubborn bug.

He went to a nearby clinic, laying out every single symptom to the physician.

The doctor listened patiently and ordered a full battery of routine tests.

Ethan trudged between the clinic's labs with his paperwork.

When drawing his blood, the nurse took one look at his ghostly face and asked with concern:

"You look awful, sweetie. Have you been pushing yourself too hard lately?"

He managed a weak, bitter smile.

The results came back quickly. He carried the folder back into the exam room, watching the doctor flip through each sheet.

"Well... your blood panel is largely normal. A slight touch of anemia, but nothing alarming. EKG looks fine, just a bit of sinus arrhythmia, which is very common in young adults. Chest X-ray is clear."

The doctor delivered his conclusion. "No structural or organ damage. You're likely dealing with acute burnout and chronic fatigue. Stressed out? Make sure you get plenty of rest, don't stay up late, eat well, and get some light exercise. I'll prescribe some multivitamins and mild sedatives."

The advice sounded authoritative and standard.

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. He really had worked himself up over nothing; he was just exhausted.

Holding the small bag of supplements, he walked out of the clinic.

His body still felt overwhelmingly heavy, his pulse slightly elevated just from walking across the lobby.

The stone that had briefly lifted from his chest settled right back down, uneasy and cold.

Was it... truly just fatigue?