Chapter 321

Latisha froze, quickly looking away from Mrs. Dashiell's searching gaze. She bit her lip and shook her head.

But Mrs. Dashiell had seen too much in her life to be fooled by the girl's act. She took Latisha's hand, her voice full of concern. “Latisha, don't lie to me. If you're suffering because of me, I won't be able to rest easy."

Latisha's head snapped up, and she quickly waved her hands, signing, *No, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me.*

Mrs. Dashiell looked at her deeply, her withered hand reaching up to gently stroke Latisha's cheek. Her voice trembled slightly. "Latisha, I hope I haven't burdened you."

The old woman's words made Latisha's eyes sting, and tears began to fall uncontrollably. She squeezed Mrs. Dashiell's hand tightly.

If anything, she was the one who had burdened Mrs. Dashiell. If the old woman had been just a little more selfish, her life wouldn't be so miserable, and she certainly wouldn't be bullied by her own son and daughter-in-law.

Latisha shook her head again and hugged Mrs. Dashiell.

The warmth from the elderly woman's body was something Latisha had never experienced before—it felt like the warmth of a home. She had felt it once in Clifford's arms, but somewhere along the way, his embrace had turned cold, carrying the scent of someone else. He didn't belong to her anymore.

Latisha closed her eyes, savoring the fleeting, precious warmth. Soon, she might not even remember Mrs. Dashiell. She would forget Nikita, forget Mrs. Dashiell, forget everyone. Eventually, she would even forget who she was.

Mrs. Dashiell gently patted her back, humming softly as if lulling a child to sleep.

Perhaps Latisha truly was exhausted, because she drifted off without realizing it. When she woke up, it was two in the morning.

The time on her phone made her heart leap, and she shot up in bed. Mrs. Dashiell had given her the bed and was sitting beside her, watching her with a kind expression. Her sudden movement startled the old woman.

"What is it, Latisha? Did you have a nightmare?"

Latisha frantically shook her head. She suddenly remembered that Clifford had forbidden her from visiting Mrs. Dashiell alone. Had he found out?

She threw off the covers and signed, *Mrs. Dashiell, I have to go back.*

"It's so late. It's dangerous to go back now. Wait until morning."

Latisha shook her head, insistent on leaving. She couldn't risk any more trouble. She signed, *It's okay. I'll get a cab. It'll be quick.*

Seeing her determination, Mrs. Dashiell didn't argue, only reminding her again and again to be careful. Latisha agreed, put on her shoes, and left the hospital.

The IV drip had settled her stomach, though a dull ache remained. While waiting for a cab at the hospital entrance, her phone rang with an unknown number. Wondering who would call her so late, she answered.

"Is this Latisha?"

The voice was somewhat familiar, but before she could place it, the person identified himself. "It's Greyson Lambert."

"Clifford might have had a bit too much to drink. I was wondering if you wanted to come and pick him up?" Greyson continued, "ll text you the address. Whether you come or not is up to you."

He hung up, and a moment later, an address arrived via text. Latisha opened the message. It looked like a hotel she'd never been to Just then, a cab pulled up, and she showed the driver the address.

The driver whistled. "Whoa, a seven-star hotel. You headed there?"