âStephieâ¦â Iâd barely hung up the phone when Steven started his act.
âOw, it hurts.â Steven raised his hand to show me the wound on his wrist.
I suspected that heâd caught wind of my chat with Yasmin and was now scheming to stop me from leaving.
âDidnât the doctor take care of it?â I held Stevenâs wrist and glanced at it. âWhy would hurt yourself when you know itâs painful?â
With a hint of sadness in his eyes, Steven whispered, âStephie, how about we move out and live somewhere else?â
He didnât want me to stay at the Lincoln residence any longer and preferred to leave Ignatius there to fend for himself.
âWeâve got a place.â He gazed at me with determination, wanting to convey to me that this was our home.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts and glanced around.
Not only were the flowers in the yard ones I loved, but even the room decorations were tailored to my preferences.
It appeared that he had truly been making continuous efforts all this while to create a home with me.
âSteve⦠This villa is expensive. Did you buy it or rent it?â I asked suspiciously.
Stevenâs eyes shifted slightly. âI rented itâ¦â
I nodded in agreement. âIf you donât want to go back to the Lincoln residence, weâll stay here.â
Steven was the heir of the Lincoln family. Of course, he could easily afford the rent with the monthly trust payment.
Finally happy, Steven didnât seem to be feeling any pain from his wound anymore.
âYour foot and calf injuries havenât fully healed yet. If you keep hurting yourself, Iâll leave you.â I tried to make him heed my warning by threatening to leave.
Sure enough, Steven was terrified.
He nervously glanced at me and the leaveâ¦â
âThen stop hurting yourself.â
puned Steven remained silent and simply held me tight, unwilling to loosen his grip.
âIâm going out tonight. Just stay home and get some rest. Iâll come straight here to be with you when I get back,â I whispered, trying to reassure him.
I hadnât yet remembered much about my time with Steven, but the memories of our childhood meeting felt like they were deeply affecting me.
If Steven and the orphanage were really that significant to me, why did I specifically forget about them?
Yasmin was also from the orphanage.
And in my memories, the girl who admired my dress must have been the late Mandy.
Yasmin, on the other hand, was the girl who always followed Mandy. Sheâd looked weak, but sheâd coldly watch and even find joy in othersâ misfortune.
Ever since she was a child, Yasmin always had a mean streak in her.
On our way back, I questioned Howard about the time when Stephanie was bullied by some boys for wearing a red dress.
Based on my recollection, Howard wasnât part of the event and didnât initiate the tearing of my clothes.
Howard responded, âBack then, Stephanieâs father was in talks with Mr. Hanks about funding the orphanage while his own daughter was getting bullied there.
âLater, Mr. Hanks punished Steven and those who bullied Stephanie, but Yasmin was the only one who wasnât implicated.â
This indicated that Yasmin had always been a clever person who was skilled at stirring up trouble from a young age.
âStephie! Iâm in so much pain.â Steven suddenly gripped my hand tighter. âStephie, donât leave.
Stay with me, please?â
I looked at Steven suspiciously.
Did he overhear my phone call, or did he have a sense of what might happen later?
âSteve, I have to go out.â I wanted to uncover the truth and reclaim my memories. I couldnât just reacquaint myself with Steven again so naively.
It wouldnât be fair to Steven, nor to myself.
âStephie, Iâm thirsty.â Steven changed the topic.
So, I could only go and get him some water.
But as soon as I stepped away, Stevenâs gaze dropped to my phone screen.
It was showing Michaelâs name on the caller ID.
Without hesitation, Steven blocked the call.
Stevenâs villa was massive, yet there wasnât a nanny in sight.
Steven wasnât fond of having people around, so there was only an old butler named Leo Hart who helped him with the yard work outside.
After fetching him some warm water, I brought it into the room.
Thatâs when I noticed Steven was having a fever.
He was curled up in bed and couldnât be bothered to cover himself with a blanket.
I was worried.
How did he survive all these years with such poor selfâcare skills?
âStephieâ¦â I wanted to get him a thermometer, but Steven grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed, holding me tight in his arms.
Even though he was sick, he was still very strong.