Chapter 22: Haunted

Alley Houston witnessed it with her own eyes, a face identical to hers, a voice identical to hers, and even a body identical to hers. Shattered, broken.

Alley Houston broke into a cold sweat, her entire body stiff, and all she could do was scream in vain. Lily Houston still lay beneath the wheels, her face pallid, her eyes suddenly twitching. A smile formed on her lips.

"Ah!"

"Alley, Alley!"

Alley Houston was jolted by a strong, reassuring arm. Beside her ear was the familiar voice of Karimba Cellon. She jerked, her eyes wide open, looking into the void before her. By her bedside was the man who had been by her side for the past few days.

"Why are you here?" Alley Houston asked irritably.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Karimba Cellon entered Alley Houston's room when he heard her screaming in her sleep. Seeing her thrashing about as if trying to escape, he was filled with fear and quickly turned on the bedside lamp before shaking her awake.

Alley Houston stared at Karimba Cellon for a moment, then slowly nodded after a while. He could also vaguely guess what she had dreamt of.

"Just now, I heard you calling Lily Houston's name. Did you dream about her?"

Alley Houston nodded faintly, sweat breaking out again. She was frightened, clutching her head, curling up, and scratching at her scalp as if trying to help herself regain consciousness. A moment later, tears began to flow uncontrollably from Alley Houston's eyes. She cried openly.

Faced with Alley Houston's current state, Karimba Cellon could only sigh deeply. He sat down beside her, and the deep-seated fear within him also began to resurface. Alley Houston resembled that girl, the girl who had died beneath the wheels of his stepmother's car fifteen years ago.

Lily Houston, her death was not only a haunting memory for him but also for Alley Houston.

Whenever he looked at Alley Houston, the image of Lily Houston, though deceased, still smiling in a haunting manner, haunted Karimba Cellon from childhood to now, making him shudder in fear each time the thought crossed his mind. Witnessing the tragic death of the girl so similar to Alley Houston, along with that terrifying smile on her lips even as her body was shattered, Karimba Cellon began to suffer from gynophobia.

Lily Houston made Karimba Cellon afraid of women, yet he had fallen in love with Alley Houston. Love, indeed, was something that could not be defined by reason and logic.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here!"

Karimba Cellon embraced Alley Houston, his warm hands gently caressing her, hoping to soothe her. Alley Houston trembled for a while and then leaned tiredly against Karimba Cellon's shoulder.

"Ultimately, who was responsible for Lily Houston's death?" Alley Houston suddenly asked. "Occasionally, I dream about her. It feels like she has something she wants to tell me, something she wants me to help her with. Was Lily Houston wrongfully killed?"

Alley Houston spoke while raising her clear, teary eyes to Karimba Cellon. Karimba Cellon suddenly felt a pang in his heart; it turned out that he wasn't the only one who had been hurt. Perhaps over the past fifteen years, Alley Houston had also endured the torment of the mind whenever she thought of Lily Houston's tragic death.

Karimba Cellon knew who the culprit behind Lily Houston's murder was, even to the extent that he had been sitting in the car that had run her over all those years ago. For this reason, this matter had become the greatest haunting in his life.

"Can we put that behind us?" Karimba Cellon whispered to Alley Houston, and she let out a sigh, nodding quietly a moment later.

However, both of them knew that the shadow cast by that haunting was too immense, something they couldn't easily overcome.

Alley Houston closed her eyes, slipping into slumber without realizing. The fever and the nightmares left her feeling increasingly drained. When she opened her eyes again, Karimba Cellon was still there, sleeping soundly beside her. Normally, he should have left the room when she was sound asleep, but he couldn't bear to leave her alone.

In the darkness, Alley Houston smiled slightly, her slender fingers tracing up Karimba Cellon's cheek. Her deep, dark eyes focused on him, as if she wanted to etch every contour of his face into her mind.

The next morning, Alley Houston woke up, and beside her was the familiar face of Karimba Cellon. Suddenly, her head throbbed like a hammer. The memories of the previous night had faded into oblivion, leaving behind only the lingering memory of a horrifying dream and the comfort of the man sleeping soundly beside her.

Alley Houston let out a sigh and slid off the bed, the movement simultaneously rousing Karimba Cellon. He opened his eyes, gazing intently at her and asking:

"It's early morning, where are you planning to go? Whatever you need, just tell me."

Karimba Cellon's solicitude left Alley Houston a bit flustered; she still wasn't entirely used to it. He spoke as he sat up. Alley Houston looked at him and shook her head, responding:

"No need to worry, I can handle it myself!"

After a moment of contemplation, Alley Houston turned her gaze back to Karimba Cellon, her eyes somewhat distant.

"I just need you to leave here as soon as possible!"

Karimba Cellon let out a sigh as he observed Alley Houston's petite figure walking away. It struck him that once a woman turned cold, her heart could become utterly icy, impervious to any attempts to warm it. Karimba Cellon couldn't help but realize that he might have hurt Alley Houston to a degree that could hardly be repaired even with a lifetime of sincere effort.

But he wasn't giving up. He wanted them to fall in love with each other again. And he would take care of her for the rest of his life.

Hearing Alley Houston's words weighed heavily on Karimba Cellon's heart. Nevertheless, he simply shook his head and slowly got out of bed, preparing to head to the market.