NovelEnglishRemington hurriedly changed his clothes and, with Ray in tow, stepped out of his room. As they passed Lizetta's
room, he instinctively turned to Ray and put a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before gently opening the
door. He had been worried Lizetta might have nightmares, so he had left a floor lamp on in the corner of her
room when he left. Beneath the soft glow of the lamp, the woman on the bed seemed to be in a deep sleep.
Knowing Lizetta's medication included a mild sedative, Remington felt relieved. He softly closed the door and
then quickly descended the stairs with Ray.
Yet, the moment the door clicked shut, the supposedly sleeping Lizetta opened her eyes. She sat up, walked over
to the window, and peeked through a slit in the curtains. In the night, three cars with their headlights on silently
drove away from the villa. Lizetta clutched the curtains tightly, a faint glimmer of light in her serene eyes.
Remington didn't return to the villa until around eight or nine the next morning. As he entered the living room,
he found Lizetta, unusually, not cooped up in her room. She was lounging in a chair by the floor-to- ceiling
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtwindows, soaking up the sun while flipping through a book. The warm sunlight made her pale face glow with a
hint of rosiness, making her look somewhat healthier. Remington paused, watching this scene for a long while
before slowly walking over.
"What are you reading?" he asked, leaning in and plucking the book from Lizetta's hands. He glanced at the
cover and saw it was "Confession," a story about a girl named Lydia who dies, and her family's heart-wrenching
quest to find her killer, only to discover it was their own doing. Remington's hand froze for a moment, his eyes
reflecting a surge of intense emotion that quickly vanished. He masked his feelings, saying softly, "Cara
mentioned you've been reading for a while. It's not good for your eyes to strain them like this during recovery."
Lizetta lifted her gaze. "What am | supposed to do then?" She felt trapped, with no internet, no entertainment,
and no one to talk to like a ghost. Remington met her cold stare, his voice tender yet firm. "Right now, you need
to rest. Once you're a bit stronger, I'll ask Yolanda to cand stay with you for a few days, how about that?"
Lizetta didn't respond, sensing that the "few days" Remington mentioned felt like an eternity away. Seeing her
silence, Remington gently lifted her into his arms. "Lying here too long will make your back sore, and it's tfor
your medication soon." He carried her upstairs to her room. Once there, Remington kneeled by the bed, stroking
her hair. "If you're bored and want to hear a story, | can read one to you. Would that be okay?"
Lizetta shook her head. "I don't want to listen." Remington had grown accustomed to her refusals over the past
few days. He nodded. "That's okay, I'll read whenever you're ready." He stood up. "I've been outside, and | might
have brought back germs. I'll take a shower and change my clothes before | cback to keep you company."
As he turned to leave, Lizetta suddenly spoke. "Where did you go?"
Remington nearly thought he'd imagined it. This was the first tLizetta had initiated a conversation with him
since the incident. Was she asking about his whereabouts because she cared? Caught off guard but touched,
Remington was about to share the joy of his morning findings when the weight of reality pressed down on him
again. He slowly turned to face her. "I was at the office, dealing with surgent paperwork that needed my
signature. Liz, if you'd rather | didn't go out, I..."
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Lizetta cut him off. "I was just
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asking." She closegar yes, fer!
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