Chapter 438

Of course, Evelyn wouldn’t answer that question.

She couldn’t show too much resistance, either, so she carefully deflected, “I’d rather not discuss anything related to him. For your magazine’s sake, I suggest avoiding topics that might… complicate distribution.”

Her response made the nosy magazine staff realize their blunder.

“Understood, Miss Thorne. You studied medicine, yet you chose entrepreneurship after graduation. What inspired that decision?”

Evelyn’s brows twitched slightly.

If she answered honestly, it would take days to explain.

She needed to keep this brief.

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a wave of nausea hit her without warning. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she bolted for the nearest restroom.

“Miss Thorne! Are you alright?” The staff scrambled after her.

Everything happened too fast.

Evelyn barely made it to the stall before emptying her stomach violently.

Lunch came back up in painful heaves.

Tears pricked her eyes from the force of it.

Once her stomach was empty, the discomfort faded as quickly as it had come.

She flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall, steadying herself.

Michael stormed into the restroom moments later, his expression tight with concern.

“Evelyn, what’s wrong?” He gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him. “You’re pale. Did you just throw up?”

She pushed his hands away and moved to the sink, splashing cold water on her face. “Sophie and I overdid it at lunch. I ate too much.”

“You could’ve taken leftovers! Why force yourself until you’re sick?” His frown deepened. “I’m taking you home.”

“The interview isn’t finished,” she protested. “I’ll leave after we wrap up.”

“You just vomited. Everything else can wait.”

“I’m fine now.” The cool water had helped. Squaring her shoulders, she walked past him. “Michael, focus on your work. I’ll handle this.”

To the staff, she offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Let’s continue.”

Sensing her fatigue, they kept the remaining questions light before concluding the session.

After seeing them out, Evelyn grabbed her bag and headed home.

The nausea had passed, but her body felt drained, weak.

All she wanted was to collapse on her couch.

Since learning about her pregnancy, she’d stopped driving.

Morning sickness had been brutal with Lily and Henry, and this time might be worse.

Driving in that state was too risky.

She flagged down a taxi outside Thornfield Industries.

At home, she curled up on the sofa and pulled out her phone, typing a message to Sophie.

After much deliberation, she’d decided to tell her.

The response was immediate—Sophie called from a private corner, voice shrill with excitement.

“Evelyn Thorne! You’re pregnant?! Whose baby is it? Holy hell, I’m gonna have a heart attack!” Sophie’s shriek nearly burst her eardrum. She sounded more thrilled than the time she’d met Eric Montclair.