She quickly followed, reaching out to grasp his arm.

“Mr. Hughes, I..."

"lL ensure the PR team makes you a sensation, Eleanor," Brian interjected, his voice icy.

“But in the future, keep your distance. Any issues, talk to Edwin.”

With that, he shrugged off her grip, leaving her off balance.

A sharp pain seared through her lower abdomen, bringing her to a stop.

She clutched her stomach, doubling over in pain.

“Ouch! That hurts

Moira was at her side instantly.

“Eleanor, what's wrong?"

“My stomach-it's aching."

At her outcry, Brian paused. Turning back, he asked, "What's the matter?”

Eleanor bit her lip, meeting his gaze.

“I don't know, Mr. Hughes. It's just my stomach."

But her words fell short as her eyes rolled back and she slumped into unconsciousness.

Moira cried out for help.

“Eleanor! What's wrong? Wake up! Mr. Hughes, Eleanor needs medical attention!"

Elsewhere in a hospital, Barlow found himself distracted by an escalating pain in his wounded arm and back.

He eyed Rosalynn, engrossed in her phone, then carefully propped himself up.

He yearned to converse, but thought better of it, and instead, sent a photo of his injuries to Karina.

He decided that Karina was a more engaging and fitting conversationalist than Rosalynn.

Her response came swiftly.