Chapter 692: Chapter 692: No one from the Cheney Family ends up well
“I don’t want to, I don’t want to be with you!” Yolanda screamed.
Darkness. Not being able to see one’s fingers before their eyes.
These sounds, bit by bit, tortured her sanity, hurt to the point of not wishing to live.
Perhaps Yolanda’s voice was too loud, aroused Chris from downstairs!
Chris stepped on the staircase, running up quickly: “Yolanda, Yolanda!”
Yolanda was hiding in her blanket, shivering with fear, her body curled up into a ball, like a cat.
Chris pushed the door open and turned on the light.
He moved to the bedside, extended his arm and held Yolanda in his embrace.
“Yolanda, having a nightmare again? Don’t be scared, I’m here.”
He touched her, and Yolanda’s back, face, all covered in cold sweat, her little face pale and her lips as white as paper.
Yolanda couldn’t open her eyes, holding onto Chris’s clothes tightly, burying her head in his chest.
“Chris, Chris…” she weakly called his name, her heart aching.
There was a sensation of a hand squeezing her heart, making her breathless.
“Yolanda, I’m Chris, don’t be scared, I’m with you.” Chris comforted her repeatedly.
Yolanda was still scared, those voices, clearly echoing by her ears.
“Should I get some medicine for you?” Chris suggested.
“No, I don’t want to take any medicine, I don’t want to…” She hadn’t recovered from the ordeal just now.
The sound of a medicine bottle shaking still echoed in her ears.
No, she didn’t want to take medicine, especially medicine from Spencer Childe!
“Alright, if you don’t want to, then don’t. How about I get you a glass of plain hot water?”
Chris, a little distressed, was ready to stand up—
But, as soon as he stood up, Yolanda grabbed his clothes: “Don’t go, don’t go.”
“I won’t go.” With no choice, Chris sat back down by the bed, “Yolanda, I’ll stay with you.”
“Chris, I didn’t cause Spencer’s death…why does his ghost still haunt…” Yolanda sobbed.
“You dreamt about him?” Chris sighed, “It must be because the Cheney Residence is too close to the graveyard. I’ll take you away soon, can you hang in there a little longer?”
“Chris, he kept asking me to accompany him, I don’t want to, I don’t want to die, I’m still so young.” Yolanda cried, “Hasn’t their harm been enough? Why are they still treating me …”
“Yes, they’re all culprits. Yolanda, don’t be scared, once we return to Lonton, I’ll take you to see a psychologist.”
“Chris.” Yolanda hugged him tightly.
Chris held her head against his chest and kissed her forehead lightly.
“If you really dislike it here, tomorrow I’ll take you to stay in a hotel.” Chris said, “I don’t want to see you being tormented.”
“Chris, can we go and stay at the hotel right now? I cannot sleep here.”
“Alright, whatever you say goes. It’s a bit cold now, though—please put on some more clothes, OK?”
Yolanda obediently nodded.
Chris went to the wardrobe and fetched a sweater and a coat for her, helping her put them on one by one with the utmost patience and care.
Under the light, his young face looked even more handsome and fair.
Yolanda lay there without any strength, allowing Chris to do as he pleased.
Once her clothes were on, Chris also helped her comb her hair.
“Cheney Residence is too big and too unpopulated. It’s normal that you’re having nightmares. Don’t be scared, don’t feel pressured. Spencer Childe is dead, Sylvan Cheney is handicapped, none of the Cheney family end well.” Chris comforted her, “I’ll take you to a hotel in the bustling area right now. If you can’t sleep, I’ll take you shopping.”
It’s not that late, only about eleven o’clock.