Chapter 211: Chapter 211: She Dreamed of the Past
Before Alice York could even ask who had helped, Ian Bishop, who was about to be escorted away, suddenly shouted at her.
"Alice York! Don’t you want to know who that person is? Come over here and I’ll tell you. If you don’t, you’ll never learn this secret!"
Ian Bishop’s hysterical voice attracted the attention of countless passersby.
Many of them stopped to gawk out of curiosity.
Wyatt Sterling said with a cold expression, "Take him away."
"Wait, don’t take him away yet!" Hearing Ian Bishop’s words, Alice York walked toward him without hesitation.
Wyatt Sterling immediately grabbed her wrist. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? We’ve already found your grandparents. What are you going over there for?"
"Isn’t he already under control by your men? I won’t be in any danger." Alice York insisted she hadn’t lost her head. "I just want to know an answer..."
Wyatt Sterling’s brow furrowed. "What answer?"
"If I knew, I wouldn’t need to go. But my gut tells me this answer is important, so I have to!" In her desperation, Alice York pried Wyatt Sterling’s hand off. "Third Uncle, I’m begging you, let me go."
Naturally, Wyatt Sterling didn’t let go. "I’ll go with you."
’But...’
She recalled his attitude when she had spoken with him earlier...
Just then, Ian Bishop’s laughter echoed from the distance. Even in his wretched state, he was laughing with wild abandon.
Alice York turned her head and saw Ian Bishop’s insolent, smiling face. He shouted to her, "I’ll only tell you. If you really want to know, come see me at the police station. This is our secret... unless you want to stay in the dark forever! HAHAHAHA..."
The height of arrogance.
"Take him away!"
At Wyatt Sterling’s command, Ian Bishop was pushed into a car. He was very cooperative, not struggling at all, and his eyes met Alice York’s through the car window.
His gaze held a secret. As the car slowly drove away, Alice York almost instinctively took a step forward.
Wyatt Sterling pulled her back. "Still haven’t calmed down?"
Alice York turned around in a daze. She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly her throat seized up, and she began to cough violently.
She coughed so hard she bent over, her small face deathly pale.
Perhaps because it was so sudden, Wyatt Sterling froze for two seconds before steadying her. After catching her breath a little, she said in a hoarse voice, "Third Uncle, thank God you were here today. Thank God..."
"You’ve talked too much today."
He cut her off heartlessly.
Alice York lifted her face, her eyes red from the violent coughing. "Actually, I..."
"Shut up."
At that moment, Wyatt Sterling’s expression was even uglier than Alice York’s. He swept her up into his arms and walked toward the hospital. A doctor examined her throat and said with a frown, "Why did you wait until it was this severe to come to the hospital?"
No one answered.
The doctor could only look at the man holding the patient. His silent, intimidating aura made it impossible to ask again, so he just arranged for an anti-inflammatory IV drip.
Soon, Alice York was settled in a hospital room.
Having held on until now, she was at the extremity of mental and physical exhaustion. Before falling asleep, she clutched Wyatt Sterling’s sleeve tightly, pleading with him, "Third Uncle, please make sure my grandparents are settled safely."
If her terrible physical condition hadn’t prevented it, she would have gone to get them herself. She wouldn’t be able to rest easy until she saw them with her own eyes.
Wyatt Sterling’s face was ashen. "Worry about yourself first."
Alice York refused to let go of his sleeve. "Third Uncle..."
"Just how little do you trust me?" Wyatt Sterling yanked his hand away, his tone icy. "Only if you take care of yourself will I take care of the people you care about."
He was truly angry.
Angry that she disregarded her own body, angry that she was repeatedly impulsive, angry that she wouldn’t listen...
Alice York didn’t dare make another peep. She silently turned on her side, facing away from him.
Wyatt Sterling stood by the bed for a while, his hand on his hip. His expression only softened slightly when he heard Alice York’s even breathing.
Whether it was a sedative in the medicine or simply her utter mental and physical exhaustion, she fell into a deep sleep shortly after the IV was hooked up.
She didn’t know how long she slept, but she had a dream.
But not a single frame of the dream was clear. Most of it was just shaking and swaying, and she was in a dark corner, being tossed and tumbled about.
It seemed to be a car, its trunk stuffed with all sorts of junk, including her.
She couldn’t speak. Even her faint sobs were drowned out by the bumpy road. She grew weaker and weaker, until she could barely keep her eyes open.
She felt like she was going to die.
With a SCREECH, the bumpy stretch of road ended, and the car came to a stop.
The trunk opened, and light flooded in. She heard people talking, but their voices were muffled, impossible to make out.
After a moment, she felt herself being lifted up and then thrown to the ground like a piece of trash. The ground was uneven, and though she scraped her hands and feet, she didn’t make a sound.
Someone said, "Is she dead?"
Someone else replied, "She’s not gonna die that easily. Let me see... See? She’s still breathing."
Someone said, "So we just leave her here?"
Another person replied, "Yeah, here is fine. It’s so remote, no one will ever find her."
All these voices were a blur to her. Suddenly, a wave of pain hit her, and she weakly opened her eyes—
"Miss Alice, you’re awake."
A familiar voice reached her ears. Alice York opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time before she could distinguish the dream from reality.
Being thrown to the ground like trash was the dream.
The familiar voice was reality.
’Strange, why would I have a dream like that...’
It was dark outside the window. She turned her head and saw Mason Cheney approaching. "Did I sleep all afternoon?"
"Yes, Miss Alice." Mason Cheney nodded. "How are you feeling now? Does your throat still hurt?"
Alice York shook her head.
After a full night’s sleep, much of her exhaustion had vanished. Her throat didn’t hurt anymore, though it was a little dry and her voice was still a bit hoarse. But it was much better than it had been during the day.
Taking the warm water Mason Cheney handed her, Alice York didn’t drink it right away. She held the cup and asked, "Where are my grandparents?"
Mason Cheney told her, "The Third Master has arranged a place for them to stay. Don’t worry, they are safe."
"I want to go see them." Now that she felt better, she thought she could go.
Mason Cheney gestured for her to be patient. "Miss Alice, you just woke up, you must be hungry. I’ve ordered food to be delivered. It would be best to eat first before you go. A little while won’t make a difference."
But Alice York was too anxious to wait. She didn’t even drink the water and hurriedly put on her shoes.
Left with no choice, Mason Cheney had to play the Wyatt Sterling card—
"The Third Master said that if you woke up late, you must eat before you do anything else."
Alice York froze.
And then she actually behaved.
The food arrived quickly. Mason Cheney had ordered it from a fine restaurant. It was a lavish spread, but the dishes were rather bland, and she didn’t have much of an appetite.
Holding her bowl and chopsticks, she asked before eating, "Where’s Third Uncle?"
"The Third Master went to see a friend." Mason Cheney raised his hand to check the time on his watch. "He left almost forty minutes ago. He should be back soon."
’He’s only been gone for forty minutes...’
Alice York looked up and asked, "So while I was asleep, Third Uncle was here watching over me the whole time?"
Mason Cheney replied, "Well, no."
"..."
