Chapter 179
Allison, drifting in and out of consciousness, vaguely felt a gentle hand brushing her forehead. The cool touch of a damp cloth offered a fleeting moment of relief.
"Don't go," she murmured, caught in the haze of a dream. This dream took her back to the bleak years after fleeing the orphanage. She relived the kidnapping, the agonizing drug-induced stupor that stole her sight and plunged her into suffocating darkness. Every sound became a harbinger of terror. Then, from the void, she saw a younger version of herself, carried on the back of a shadowy figure—a boy. His face was obscured, but his struggle to carry her was palpable.
"Hey, what's your name?" she asked, her voice faint in her memory.
A pause, then the scarred boy replied, "Colton Stevens."
"Alright, I'll find you one day."
Years had passed since that memory resurfaced in her dreams. Her heart, long numbed by her time with the Stevens family, now felt as though a part of it had been cruelly gouged out, the wounds of the past reopened. Even in her exhaustion, her eyes too heavy to open, she sensed someone nearby. A sigh of relief broke the stillness. "Finally, the fever's gone," a strong yet calm voice declared. The voice seemed to blend with the boy from her dream, momentarily feeling like the same person.
Gradually, Allison realized it wasn't her dream's shadow, but Kellan, who had tirelessly cared for her. He had been at her side, constantly replacing the damp cloths, his touch deliberate as he gently moistened her parched lips with water. His attention to even the smallest details gave her a sensation she wasn't used to: safety. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Allison felt security and stability. She thought back to countless nights under the Stevens' roof, lying alone in the cold bed, sick or melancholic, staring blankly at the moon, pushing her chaotic feelings deep within. Now, there was a rare warmth beside her. Before long, the weight of her body pulled her into another deep sleep, as if sinking into the ocean's depths.
When she awoke, she was in the Lloyd Mansion. Sunlight filtered through frosted glass, casting a warm glow across the room. The faint scent of roses from the garden filled the air. Allison flexed her fingers, her movements sluggish, and felt something beside her.
"Lorna…" she whispered, still half in a daze.
Beside her, Lorna lay sleeping, her small hand nestled next to Allison's. The quiet murmur stirred Lorna awake. Her eyes flicked open, and seeing Allison conscious, she clutched her hand with an intensity that spoke of deep relief. Lorna opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came. Her eyes, however, conveyed pure, unfiltered joy.
"Good girl, Lorna," Allison murmured, gazing into the eager, tear-filled eyes. It dawned on her that Lorna must have been terrified, afraid of losing her as she had lost her father. Now, that fear melted away in the light of Allison's awakening.
Allison soon became aware of another presence—Kellan, slumped in a wheelchair by her bed. He was wrapped in bandages, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion, the telltale sign of sleepless nights. Her throat was too dry for words, but she smiled faintly, trying to comfort Lorna, her steadfast companion.
A slight movement stirred Kellan from his slumber. His eyes shot open, immediately locking onto hers.
"You're awake." His voice, though steady, carried the weight of relief. He noticed her dry lips and swiftly reached for water.
"Don't speak yet," he said softly, handing her the glass. "Drink slowly. It'll help your throat. You might still feel a little dizzy."
Kellan pressed the call button, and Jim entered the room.
"Jim, take Lorna to rest."
"Alright."
Jim entered, and seeing Allison awake, his face lit up with joy. "Mr. Lloyd, Ms. Clarke is finally awake. You can breathe easy now. It's been ages since you've had a decent night's sleep. How about you get some rest too? I know you can leave now. Then I'll take Lorna back to her room."
Jim grinned, wanting to give Allison and Kellan a moment alone. As he lifted Lorna, a wave of pity washed over him. Since Allison's injury, Lorna had become obsessive, clinging to Allison's bedside, refusing to sleep, even at night. But now, with Allison awake, Lorna could find peace and rest.
Once Jim left with Lorna, a deep quiet fell over the room. Kellan's eyes remained fixed on Allison, his expression calm, his voice steady, but the tension in his clenched fists betrayed the storm brewing inside him. Over the past few days, he'd handled countless matters—tracking down the assassins—but none of it soothed the rage that churned within. The thought lingered: one wrong move on the Burned Islands, and Allison could have been lost forever. This realization settled over him like a dark cloud. The doctors dealt with the infection.
"Are you feeling discomfort anywhere else?"