Chapter 226

Half a month later, Kellan called Allison.

"Ms. Clarke," he said, "any chance you're free for dinner at my villa?"

Allison, busy typing at her computer, sighed helplessly. "Shouldn't I be inviting you? After all, you took a knife for me."

"It's because of Lorna," Kellan's deep voice replied. "She said she misses you."

In truth, during the past half-month of recovery, Kellan had quietly yearned to see her again. The longing, like an ever-tightening knot, had become almost unbearable.

"Alright," Allison replied. "Once I finish this work, I'll come by." She didn't hesitate.

Meanwhile, Kellan's young niece, Lorna, lay on his lap, intently studying the bandage on his healing wound. Every slight prod from her tiny fingers sent a sharp pain through him.

"Lorna, sweetheart," Floyd, standing nearby with a gentle smile, quipped, "you shouldn't touch his injury." Despite his words, he didn't stop her. Some part of him found odd satisfaction in watching Kellan wince.

"It's fine, it doesn't hurt," Kellan murmured, gently patting her head. Though the pain was real, he wouldn't show it. His affection for the little girl ran deep, far deeper than the discomfort she unintentionally caused.

The old butler, Jim, watching this, chuckled softly before scooping Lorna into his arms. "Mr. Lloyd, I'll take Lorna to rest." The little girl's eyes darted around, finally landing on Kellan with visible reluctance. The depth of her expression was a far cry from the distant, vacant stare she'd worn before.

Allison noticed the shift immediately. The change in Lorna's demeanor in just a few short weeks surprised her. Jim, carrying the girl, beamed when he spotted Allison. "Ms. Clarke is here, sir!"

Allison returned the smile. "I'm just here for a meal and to check on Lorna. Seeing her express emotions puts my mind at ease."

Kellan nodded and ordered dinner. "Now that you're here, we can start."

At the dining table, Floyd adjusted his glasses, his smile calm and measured. "Allison, I apologize for having to temporarily suspend Lorna's pottery lessons this past month. She becomes so engrossed that it could impact her treatment. But today, perhaps you can help her get back into it, even a little. Once Lorna interacts more with the outside world, she might create even better things, seeing her progress and feeling motivated."

Allison raised an eyebrow and shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't mind. Besides, Mr. Lloyd here kept paying me, so…" Allison smiled softly. "I really can't complain."

She noticed a flicker of curiosity in Lorna's eyes, like a flower slowly blooming in sunlight. Though Lorna remained silent, her improvement was clear. The once-perfect, doll-like demeanor had softened, replaced with flashes of mischief and curiosity.

Kellan's low, warm voice broke the moment. "I couldn't possibly withhold your wages, Ms. Clarke." Allison caught a fleeting hint of regret in his eyes as they shifted toward Lorna—a subtle, buried emotion, but one she easily perceived.

Softly, she added, "While we can't promise she'll start speaking, healing the wounds in her heart may help her find her voice again."

Floyd leaned back, thoughtful. "I don't know what caused Lorna's trauma, but it's clearly significant. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to let time work its magic. In a family like the Lloyds, whatever hurt her must have been more than a passing matter." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There was once a patient with similar symptoms. He recovered after re-enacting the traumatic event under intense emotional stress; his survival instincts kicked in, and he made a full recovery. But," Floyd's tone darkened, "that method's dangerous. It could easily backfire and send her spiraling deeper into despair. I wouldn't recommend it."

Kellan's response was immediate and resolute. "I would never take that risk with her."

The weight of his brother's death hung heavily over the family, a shadow that still loomed large, carving deep wounds in their hearts. Even now, just thinking about it suffocated him. No one truly made peace with the loss of a loved one.

Kellan glanced at Lorna, now drifting to sleep under Jim's gentle hand. "If Lorna can overcome her trauma with time, that would be ideal. But if she never speaks again, she'll always have a place here. The Lloyd family will take care of her."

Allison observed him in silence. Beneath the hardened exterior the world saw, Kellan was far more complex. For those close to him—whether Jim or Lorna—he carried a weight of responsibility and care often hidden from view.

After a beat of reflection, she spoke softly, her words carefully chosen. "Mr. Lloyd, have you ever thought that maybe… she doesn't want to be a marionette?"…

The ending "Mr.." is removed as it appears to be an incomplete or erroneous addition.