Chapter 60: Bite Him

Olive remembered a similar incident that had nearly caused a rift between them. But how was she supposed to know he would be involved with Pamela? Pamela was the person she hated most.

Lowering her eyes, Olive asked, "How did Pamela save you?" She was genuinely curious; Pamela didn't strike her as the rescuing type.

Elvis reminisced about the incident, which had occurred over seven years prior. The snow fell heavily, the cold was bone-piercing, his limbs stiff and cold, his eyelids heavy. As he drifted toward unconsciousness, he felt his life ebbing away.

Then, a pair of soft hands enveloped him, and a tender voice called, "Mister, what's the matter? Wake up! Don't sleep!" He longed to see who it was, but couldn't open his eyes.

In a daze, he felt the girl struggle to move him into a nearby cave. Though his eyes remained closed, he felt her gather branches to build a fire, felt her hand on his icy forehead.

"Mister," she whispered, "I won't let you die. You must live. Your family would be so sad." Soon, her small body nestled into his arms, hugging him tightly.

Elvis, barely twenty, was transitioning into manhood. He'd never hugged a girl before. Her body felt impossibly light, almost boneless. He inhaled her sweet scent, a captivating fragrance that intrigued him.

He survived. Years later, the memory remained vivid: a small girl saving him from death's door.

The next morning, the girl woke and said, "Mister, it's dawn. I can't carry you, so I'll call for help. Goodbye." As she left, he grabbed her wrist, handing her a silver pendant he carried. Though unable to see her face, he rasped, "I'll be back for you."

The girl ran off, and the man she summoned took him home. He returned to the cave many times, searching for her. Then, Pamela appeared, holding his silver pendant, and said sweetly, "Mister, you're finally here. I've been waiting for you."

Elvis blinked, snapping back to the present. He pursed his lips. "It's in the past," he said, withholding the truth.

Olive knew of Elvis's noble birth and excellent education. Pamela's role in his rescue was undeniable. Olive didn't press further; she regretted asking, knowing no answer would satisfy her. She couldn't remain calm.

They had reached the airport gate. Olive, unable to bear it any longer, unbuckled her seatbelt, reaching for the door.

Elvis grabbed her arm. "What are you doing? Let me go! North is back; I need to pick her up." Olive pushed him away. He held her fast.

"Olive, we're still talking. I've confessed about Pamela. There's nothing between us. Don't be angry."

"No, Elvis, you know I can't tolerate this. You need to fix this. My third request might be the same as my earlier one."

Seeing her anger and resistance, Elvis frowned. "Mrs. Augustine, even if Pamela likes me, shouldn't you hold my heart more tightly, prevent others from succeeding?"

"This time, I'm breaking the routine. If you get entangled with Pamela, I'll teach you both a lesson."

Anger flared in Elvis too. He pulled her close, lowering his face to kiss her lips, silencing her. She had refused his kiss earlier. This time, she twisted away, then bit his forearm fiercely.

He recoiled in pain, releasing her. Olive fled the car, disappearing into the airport lobby. Elvis slumped in his seat, covering his eyes. The kiss, he thought, felt like she was trying to kill him, but if she hadn't, it would have been worse.

Olive entered the airport lobby and spotted North in the crowd.