A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Elissa rarely cooked herself; usually, she just handed Edna a list of recipes for medicinal meals.

But ever since she learned Frank had stomach problems, things changed. The morning after each of his business dinners, a pot of nourishing soup would appear on the table–always prepared by her before dawn.

A bowl of it, and his stomach would feel noticeably better.

Edna blinked in surprise. “Nourishing soup? Madam didn’t make it… She always customizes the recipe based on your current symptoms. I

couldn’t make it if I tried…”

It wasn’t just that she hadn’t cooked.

She hadn’t even come home.

Frank pressed a hand to his stomach, his brow furrowing. “She’s been this busy lately?”

He hadn’t even caught a glimpse of her the past couple of days.

Apparently, she didn’t care about his health anymore either.

It used to be that the slightest hint of discomfort, and the young woman would be bustling between the kitchen and his study, brewing herbal remedies and keeping a close eye on him–insisting she was his personal physician.

“Uh, yes… That’s right,” Edna replied, sounding more than a little uneasy.

Marcia watched him carefully, a sly smile appearing as she changed the subject. “By the way, Frank, didn’t I major in traditional medicine in college too? Honestly, sitting around taking care of Hickey all day is getting old. Could you help me find a job?”

Frank absentmindedly spooned up some savory porridge. “How about the City Traditional Medicine Hospital? It’s close to home.”

“Oh, no.”

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Chapter 42

Marcia’s tone turned modest, her voice gentle. “I haven’t worked since graduation. Even if I have a knack for it, I get nervous around real patients. Maybe I could start by apprenticing at a private clinic?”

“If there’s a place with a real master–someone legendary in the field–willing to take me under their wing, that would be ideal.”

Traditional medicine is all about mentorship and passing down knowledge.

But that kind of apprenticeship depends on fate, not just connections. Frank couldn’t just force someone to take her in.

And to be honest, there was only one true legend in all of Northland, not just Vistapeak City–Mr. Blaine.

Still, he didn’t say no. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

The clinic was at its busiest in the mornings.

Patients came in one after another, and Elissa barely had time to leave her chair for hours. At last, a cheerful nurse poked her head in. “You’ve worked hard, Elissa. That was the last scheduled patient for today.”

“But–there are two walk–ins who really wanted to see you. I told them we couldn’t fit them in, but they’re still waiting in the hall.”

Elissa took a sip of water. “Go ahead and send them in.”

It turned out one patient just had a minor issue.

Elissa quickly wrote up a prescription and moved on to the last patient–a woman nearing eighty, accompanied by a relative.

The elderly lady was very thin, plainly dressed, but carried herself with an undeniable air of dignity. When she entered, she closed the door behind her, shutting her companion firmly outside.

Elissa finished taking her pulse, withdrew her hand, and spoke gently: “Ma’am, what seems to be bothering you?”

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Chapter 42

The woman frowned. “Aren’t you the doctor? Shouldn’t you be able to tell what’s wrong just by taking my pulse?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

Elissa was known for her patience with patients. She only smiled. “But your pulse is steady, and there’s no sign of illness. At most, you seem a little anxious and agitated. You don’t need medicine–just some good

food and rest.”

Her light makeup masked any pallor, and her voice carried strength.

To be nearly eighty and still so robust–she was truly blessed.

“Says who?”

The old woman glanced nervously at the door, making sure it was still firmly closed. Satisfied, she declared loudly, “I’m not well. I feel terrible, everywhere!”

“My grandson’s almost forty and still single. How could I possibly feel well?”

Elissa glanced at the file, confirming the woman’s age. “Almost forty?”

The lady was seventy–eight.

Even by the most generous math, her grandson could only be in his early

thirties.

She huffed, “Thirty! That’s practically forty–practically an old man! If he doesn’t find a wife soon, he’ll be the death of me from worry. Just give me some medicine, please, I need it.”

Old man.

Elissa couldn’t help thinking of Frank… and then of Rowan, who was around the same age,

She nodded sympathetically. “You’re absolutely right.”

“How about I prescribe you something to ease your nerves and settle your spirits?”

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