Chapter 311

Mortimer glanced back several times, but seeing no response from Latisha, he guessed she didn't want to talk and dropped the subject. The rest of the drive to Aqua Harmony Haven was silent.

"This is your place, right? I knew I'd seen you around here before," Mortimer said, the memory finally clicking into place.

The first time he saw her, she was collapsed in the middle of the road, crying with such heartbreaking sorrow. He didn't know what had happened, but the sight of her tears had moved him. He couldn't stop himself from getting out to help her up. When she looked at him, her tear-streaked face was etched into his mind, and it had lingered there ever since.

Latisha simply nodded and thanked him.

Mortimer got out and opened her door. "Easy does it. This van's a bit high off the ground."

He offered a hand to help her down.

Just as Latisha stepped onto the pavement, another car pulled up, stopping smoothly behind the van. The sight of it sent a jolt through Latisha's veins, a sudden, shocking current that left her hands and feet numb.

The car stopped, and Ziven stepped out from the driver's side, walking around to open the rear passenger door.

Mortimer watched as the man emerged.

Clifford got out, his gaze sweeping over them without a flicker of emotion. He adjusted the collar of his black trench coat and started walking slowly toward Latisha.

"Mr. Lambert," Mortimer greeted him. "I brought your sister back."

Clifford's eyes slid past Mortimer to land on Latisha's face. “Is that what she told you?"

Mortimer blinked, not understanding the question.

Suddenly, Clifford pulled Latisha into his arms, his hand clamping around her waist as he looked back at Mortimer. "Then thank you, Mr. Farley, for bringing my sister home."

His tone was flat, but the way he lingered on the word "sister" carried an unsettling weight. Maybe it was the pause, or maybe it was the way his hand was possessively wrapped around Latisha's waist, but

something about it felt wrong to Mortimer.

Shaking off the strange feeling, he waved. "See you around, Mr. Lambert."

With that, he got back in his van and drove off.

Clifford's eyes followed the vehicle until it disappeared before he turned his attention back to Latisha. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she tried to pull away, but his grip was like a vise on her waist.

He tightened his hold, pulling her flush against him. He looked down at her, his voice a low murmur. “Did you have fun? Sister."

The word was a sharp needle, pricking at her ears. Latisha turned her head, refusing to meet his gaze. She didn't have to; she could already imagine the cold, mocking expression on his face.

Clifford's fingers traced a path up her cheek, slowly, deliberately, until they reached her forehead.

A sharp sting of pain followed. Latisha's head snapped up.

He had ripped the bandage from her cut, glanced at it dismissively, and tossed it to the ground. Then, with a chillingly gentle touch, he began to smooth her hair. It was a mess, dirty and tangled from When the husky had jumped on her.

++ ACTS /

He methodically tidied every strand, his movements soft, but Latisha felt no warmth in them, no emotion at all. It was like when she was upset

and Hote would eat ravenous because she was hungry, butas way to vent. His actions now had that same detached, almost cruel, quality.

A cold wind whipped around them, carrying a fine, chilling mist. Latisha shivered.

"You've made such a mess of yourself," he said suddenly.

Then he was pulling her toward the house, her feet stumbling to keep up as he dragged her all the way to the bathroom.