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Chapter 124

Chapter 124

Chapter 124

The moment I finished my words, Ernest’s grip on my hand tightened. His eyes narrowed, a fleeting emotion hidden deep within them.

Then, the pressure on my hand vanished as he let go.

I quickly stepped aside, rubbing the sore spot where he had gripped me too tightly. “I’ve made all the edits you marked. Do you want to check them now?”

Ernest didn’t move, still reclining in his chair, his eyes now shut again. “No need, you should head off to bed.”

“Oh, goodnight then,” I said, turning away.

“Licia,” Ernest suddenly called out from behind me.

I staggered, had he just called me…?

Licia…

That was my nickname, used only by my parents when they were alive, and occasionally by -Fanny, but she only ever called me Licia in private.

But I heard it clearly; Ernest had just called me Licia.

I turned around, surprised, and looked at him. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he said, eyes still closed. “Just… could you close the door on your way out?”

I stared at him for a few seconds before leaving, making sure to close the door a bit more forcefully than necessary.

Leaving Ernest’s room, I didn’t head straight back to the room I shared with Deborah. Instead, I leaned against the hallway wall, trying to calm my racing heart and erratic breathing.

But the more I tried to calm down, the more I found myself replaying our brief moment of eye contact and the way he had half–hugged me to help open a document on the computer.

Eventually, I had to mentally slap myself back to reality and force myself to go back to my room, lying down in bed to sleep.

To stop my mind from wandering back to him, I opened my phone and saw several unread

messages.

There was one from Fanny, saying: “He’s not dead or injured, he’s just bleeding a bit

I chuckled at the message and replied: “Next time, I’ll hit harder.”

Fanny didn’t reply, maybe she was asleep or back in surgery again.

Leaving our chat, I opened the one with Jefferson. He had sent several messages about Conrad.

12.16

Message one: “Shooting your ex, huh? You’re something else, kid.”

Message two: “Between you and me, good shot.

Message three: “If you had that fire earlier, maybe things wouldn’t have ended the way they

did.”

Message four: “Conrad’s the type who needs a kick to keep the passion alive.”

Thinking of Haley’s soft, pitiful face, which she always showed in front of me, and likely more so in front of Conrad, I wondered if he would get tired of her act.

Shaking off the thought, I typed back to Jefferson: “Is there something Conrad owes Haley, or something that ruined her?”

It was late, and Jefferson didn’t reply immediately. After a few seconds, I added: “Or does Conrad owe something to Haley’s husband?”

I stared at the phone screen for a long while without a reply, then set the phone aside, ready to sleep.

Just then, in the quiet, I heard a muffled voice, “Ernest… you, you’re heartless…”

Tburst into laughter, turning to see Deborah talking in her sleep on the opposite bed. Was Ernest giving her such a hard time that she’d curse him even in her dreams?

My mind wandered back to my interactions with Ernest earlier that evening. Surprisingly, thinking about it now didn’t make my face heat up or my heart race as before. And as I drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Ernest still filled my mind.

I even dreamt of him, a younger Ernest chasing after me, calling out, “Licia, be careful, don’t fall…”