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Reborn From Oblivion by Christia Muray

Chapter 964
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Nathalie drifted after Cameron into the bedroom.

Above the bed hung a portrait of Cameron and Nellie on their wedding day. The two of them stared into each

other's eyes, so much tenderness and love between them that Nathalie almost didn't recognize Cameron. She'd

never seen him look at anyone like that before.

She found herself staring at the photo, lost in a daze... For a moment, the Cameron in that picture almost

convinced her he'd once loved her with all his heart.

Suddenly, Cameron let out a low, painful groan. Nathalie turned sharply to see him clutching his chest, his face

twisted in agony as he crumpled to the floor, curling in on himself, groaning.

Kristina crunning at the sound. One look at Cameron's condition and she nearly lost it, fumbling for her

phone to call 911.

The ambulance arrived in no time, the whole house thrown into chaos. In the commotion, Nathalie slipped away

to search the Dawson Estate, hoping to find any clue that might help her recover her memories.

But she wandered into the wrong room-Griffin's study. Thankfully, she was still invisible, so Griffin didn't notice

her.

She overheard Griffin on the phone, sounding frantic: "Cameron's in trouble. | have to go with him to the

hospital. There's no way | can make it home. Honey, you don't need to wait up tonight."

A woman's voice, sharp with anger, shot back, "But it's my birthday. Every other t| let things slide, but

tonight you have to be with me. If you don't show up, | swear I'll jump. Tellwho's more important, your son or

me?"

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"Con, baby, don't do this," Griffin pleaded.

“I'm not making a scene! After all these years, you still won't givea proper place in your life, and you're

never around. How is that fair to me?"

"I know I've let you down. | swear I'll make it up to you next time-next life, even."

"I don't want a next life, Griffin. | want you now. If you don't come, just be ready to clean up after me."

The call ended with a click.

Griffin pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his car keys and headed

downstairs.

Nathalie thought the Dawson Estate had never felt so tic, so she trailed after him to see what would

happen next.

Griffin stopped by Kristina, who looked like she'd aged ten years in five minutes, and tried to make an excuse.

"Honey, there's an emergency at work. | need to step out for a bit. Can you look after Cameron?"

But Kristina wasn't buying it. "No. Our son's life is on the line, and you're thinking about work?"

Griffin's face went cold. "You're overreacting. He's just upset about losing his wife this is temporary. Don't make it

bigger than it is."

Without waiting for a reply, he stalked out, face set in stone.

Kristina shouted after him, voice cracking, "If you step outside that door, don't bother coming back!"

Griffin didn't answer. If anything, he seemed lighter on his feet as he left.

At the hospital, Cameron was quickly examined. It wasn't long before the doctor cback with the news.

"Mr. Dawson is suffering from premature aging. There's no real cure yet. All we can do is try to slow it down with

treatment."

Kristina slumped down on a bench, rigid and pale, her face frozen, lips moving but no words coming out.

"Premature aging?" Nathalie echoed, that terrible phrase rattling around in her mind, leaving her oddly

unsettled.

"How could that be?" Kristina asked the doctor, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor replied gently, "It's

possible that after Mrs. Dawson' et

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death, Mr. Dawson's grief was so

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Nathalie could only think: Was he really that devastated over Nellie?

She drifted into Cameron's hospital

room-and found Greta already there. Greta was dressed to the

nines, every detail perfect, exuding elegance and poise.

"Cameron, what happened to you?" Greta asked, her voice full of concern.

Cameron sounded completely

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broken. “Nellie ope (nas aic

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Whats ¥ePoint ofbeing here?

Greta reached out and took his hand.

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Gathering her courage, Greta spoke softly, "Cameron, Nellie wasn't only

too. She's gone, but I'm stil

e who loved you. | love