Unconscious Husband: Meet Her Love In Silence

“Well… I didn’t?” The manager’s face flushed.

He stammered anxiously, “I’m sorry, Mr.

Fredrick.

I… I forgot to mention it earlier.”

He had been very nervous earlier, so it was natural for him to forget to mention that.

Holden stayed silent, and the manager, head bowed, remained behind Shawn.

Shawn, following Holden’s gaze, saw the middle-aged man.

“Mr.

Fredrick, are you suspicious of something?” Shawn asked with a hint of curiosity.

Holden’s eyes stayed locked on the middle-aged man.

Despite the manager’s explanation that the man might be a tourist with unusual attire, Holden couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the man was off.

As the middle-aged man pushed open the revolving door, Holden noticed something amiss.

The man’s hands looked oddly out of place-much paler than the rest of his skin, with unnaturally short nails, as if they had been damaged before.novelbin

Holden’s memory flashed back to Moss.

When he had met Moss in the metal house, Moss’ hands had looked similar, marked by the chemicals he worked with daily.

Perhaps…

An absurd thought struck Holden.

Acting on impulse, he strode quickly toward the middle-aged man and pulled off his scarf.

The middle-aged man stumbled, his glasses slipping from the bridge of his nose and shattering on the pavement.

Holden seized the man by the collar, spinning him around to make the man face him.

Their eyes locked, and an unsettling tension filled the air; Holden didn’t recognize the man at all.

Panic flickered in the man’s gaze.

“What’s the matter with you? Why are you grabbing my collar?” he asked, his voice trembling and thick with an accent.

“Who are you?” Holden shot back, his voice Low and demanding.

The man’s confusion deepened as he pointed to his collar, a silent signal for Holden to release him.

Once Holden finally let go, the man took a deep breath, steadied himself, and said, “I’m Benjamin, a tourist.

Who are you?”

Holden stayed silent, his attention drifting the man’s hands.

The middle-aged man noticed Holden’s gaze, his brow knitting in confusion.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Holden’s voice cut through the air, sharp and piercing.

“What happened to your hands?”

“Excuse me?” The middle-aged man glanced down at his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“The color of your hands doesn’t match your face,” Holden replied, stepping closer to the middle-aged man.

“It looks corroded.

What happened?”

The man finally understood Holden.

“This? I’m a doctor.

I spend a lot of time in the lab, and some of the chemicals I handle can be pretty dangerous.

I had an accident during an experiment, and that’s how my hands ended up like this.”