Let Me Go, Mr.Lancaster!

Hope tensed up as she recognized the slumber voice at the other end of the line.

After a few moments, she whispered, “I’m at school. I’m hanging out with my classmates. Why?”

“Which internet cafe are you in?” Stan straightforwardly asked.

Unable to hide her surprise, Hope pursed her lips before finally accepting defeat and giving Stan the address.

“Alright. Wait for me. I’ll get you.”

Hope gathered what’s left of her sanity before heading outside to meet with her uncle. She didn’t want to spend so much time with him; she didn’t want to make mistakes.

She immediately saw Stan’s car when she went outside. It stopped a few inches away from where she stood. Stan immediately got out of the car and made his way toward her.

“You’re alone here, huh?” he asked as if he knew she was lying when she said she was hanging out with her classmates.

“Yes.” Hope released a heavy breath.

Stan just stood there, staring at her as if she was a puzzle he needed to solve. She didn’t even dare look at him. Her eyes only stared at his trousered legs with her head bent down.

Her throat rolled for a moment before speaking faintly, “Uncle, I’m sorry. I just wanted to check if this place is good. I didn’t plan on staying here for a long time.”

Stan didn’t utter a word. He bent down and placed his warm fingers below Hope’s chin, lifting them so their eyes would meet.

Hope felt like all air was being sucked out of her chest as she stared at him back.

“If you continuously lie to my face to avoid me, Hope, I swear to you, I will make all your fears and worries come true,” he uttered with both threat and gentleness.

***

As Stan drove, Hope recognized the roads they passed by. It was the same road they drove by yesterday, and in front of them was the Halcyon community where Stan’s house resides.

The two didn’t utter a single word even when they got out of the car, stepped into the elevator, and got inside Stan’s house. Hope silently followed, finally feeling all of her energy depleted because of the fever.

She didn’t feel the pain when resting at the internet cafe, but after walking for a few minutes, she could already feel the cold sweat trickling down her skin.

“Sit comfortably,” Stan ordered, and Hope quietly obliged.

She sat on the soft couch while Stan went to the drawer and took out a pill box filled with the medicine of various types. He pulled out a few antipyretics and handed them to her.

“Take this. We’ll talk afterward,” he said in a serious and deep voice.

Hope was stunned when Stan took the medicine box and brought a glass of water over while on his way. She was given the pills and the water, which she took a bit slower than usual.

She was a little nervous, especially when Stan said he wanted to talk to her. It also didn't help that he was watching her as she drank the half glass of water together with the medicine.

Stan waited for her to finish drinking the medicine and water before putting the items away. In the kitchen, Hope heard the sound of running water which meant that Stan was washing the glass she used.

After a couple of minutes, Stan returned and directly sat on the couch where Hope sat. She could not help but swallow the lump in her throat as butterflies of nervousness filled her chest.

Stan sat up straight, his dark eyes serene but profound. "Were you planning to sleep overnight in an Internet cafe?"

Hope bit her lip, drew her lashes lower, and clenched her fists together. Her throat was dry and scratchy from the fever, and her voice was little and soft when she spoke, "No."

"You have a fever, don't you know?" Stan kept looking at her.

"I know," Hope croaked out, wanting to be sarcastic because how could she not know that she had a fever?

"Did my brother just let you walk outdoors by yourself?"

Hope's eyes suddenly warmed with tears at the mention of her father. However, the pain of remembering was not as painful as Sofia's kick to her spine.

"It's okay. It's just that I have some stuff to do outside these days, and I'm going to stay at my classmate's house for a few days," Hope said, with her eyes sore from holding back tears.

"Were you planning to come home after checking out that cafe?" Stan's steady streams of questions continued as Hope fumbled for answers.

"Yes. Of course."

"How many days will you stay at your classmate's house?" Stan inquired with a deep, calculating look in his eyes.

Hope could not think why Stan was interested in whether she lived with a classmate. Her father wasn't even interested in her leaving their house. However, one reason came to mind after a couple of seconds. Elizabeth's birthday was three days away.

Her daughter, Ella, made it clear that they didn't want Hope's presence at the upcoming birthday celebration. Therefore, she felt more determined not to return to the Lancasters immediately.

"A total of six days, including today," Hope replied.

"Then you'll stay here for six days."

Hope's eyes widened while glancing at him, her heart skipping a beat and her heartstrings tightening. "But…"

But before she could finish, Stan interrupted, "I will stay here with you for a few days. You can sleep on the bed, and I'll take the couch. I will return every day after work."

"But I can stay with my classmates..." Hope had a string in her heart and didn't want to live at Stan's house with him at all. She felt like this was a huge mistake. If she could get out of this mistake through a lie, then she's willing to lie to Stan again.

"Hope," Stan added in a deep voice. "Do you think I don't know you're lying?"

Hope was unsure if it was because of her medicine, but her body was sweating in layers. She remembered what Stan said at the Internet cafe's entryway about her fears and worries coming to life if she lied again.

Hope pursed her lips, not daring to look Stan in the eyes.

She finally nodded after a couple of quiet seconds.

"Take your temperature first, and then have something to eat," Stan said as he removed a thermometer from his suitcase and handed it to Hope.

Hope stretched out, took the thermometer, clipped it, and sat on the sofa. She opened her mouth and was about to say something when Stan's phone rang.

Stan looked down, picked up the phone, and walked away; Hope also heard him ask, "Angel?" on the other end of the phone.

The other side was at a loss for words, so he grimaced and muttered, "Don't worry."

He hardly spoke and just listened, occasionally muttering, "hmm." After a long conversation, he hung up the phone.

Hope didn't know why her heart was racing so fast. She pursed her dry lips, and when Stan hung up the phone and turned back, she tentatively asked, "Uncle, was that Angel?"

Stan came to a halt and glanced down at Hope, and her eyes were so deep and calm that he couldn't help but ask, "Are you anxious about my marriage?"

Hope was equally concerned. All she wanted was for his uncle to marry soon. But she didn't dare to say it and was constantly afraid that Stan would say something much more impossible to deny if she tried again.

Stan stared at her for a long time. Without waiting for her reaction, he ignored her and reached out to her. Hope also responded by handing him the thermometer.

Stan looked at it and stated, "You're still running a low-grade fever. You should sleep now and rest."

Hope sighed, a little uncomfortable, and said, "If you want to sleep in the bedroom, Uncle, I won't mind. I can just sleep on the couch."

Stan stood up. He should be around 1.8 meters tall. Standing in front of Hope, the lights cut diagonally from behind him, highlighting his deep facial features. "No. Just sleep there."

Hope remained silent for a moment and said nothing. She walked right toward the bed and finally felt the relief of lying on a soft mattress.

Logically, no one has lived in this house ever since it was bought. Stan only visited a few days a year, yet all the quilts have been washed. There was no foul smell, either. Everything smelled fresh and comfortable.

However, even after she had fallen into bed and covered the quilt, Hope appeared to smell a distinct sweet scent that belonged to Stan.

...

Stan was taking a smoke while standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

After some time, his phone rang, and he opened it up to see a message from Ashton Maxwell saying, "How are things going? Did you manage to catch your little niece?"