Chapter 218 How Did You Climb Over the Wall Again?
Her voice was so soft it nearly faded into the breeze. But Alexander heard every word clearly.
He looked up at Caroline's somewhat lonely profile, a faint shadow flickering through his dark eyes.
Was Caroline really this unwanted in the Neville family?
Alexander's throat tightened suddenly, and he started eating the cookies even faster.
By the time Caroline snapped out of that brief moment of sadness, the small box that had originally held over a dozen cookies was more than half empty.
"Ah... you, you should slow down, have some tea..."
The sky gradually darkened, the sunset clouds looking as though they'd been torn open.
Alexander calculated the time—Edith and Damon should be back soon.
He couldn't stay any longer.
There had been enough unexpected variables today. He couldn't risk making things more complicated.
He put down his teacup and stood up.
"It's getting late, I should head back. Thanks for having me. And... the cookies were really good."
Caroline quickly stood up too. "You're welcome, just... don't climb over the wall again."
Alexander felt his ears burning.
He took one last deep look at Caroline, then left with some reluctance.
Back in that familiar yet strange home, lying in bed, his stomach immediately began churning and turning sour.
He'd eaten way too much today—first nearly finishing an entire plate of steak pasta and soup, then most of a box of cookies, plus plenty of tea.
This relatively young body, one that hadn't yet endured the physical and mental torment that would come later, clearly wasn't used to this pace.
Alexander curled up in discomfort, pressing his hand tightly against his aching stomach, but he didn't really regret it.
Even though his body felt terrible, that was food Caroline had made.
Even if he ate until he was stuffed, he was willing.
The night grew deeper. Alexander tossed and turned in bed. The bloating pain in his stomach finally settled down, only for a chill to creep in silently.
At first he just felt a bit cold. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, but the chill seemed to radiate outward from his bones, accompanied by a fine, dense ache.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, yet his body burned with waves of heat. His consciousness swayed back and forth between clarity and confusion.
In his daze, he vaguely sensed someone by the bed.
A pretty figure was sitting beside him.
A cool, soft hand gently pressed against his burning forehead.
Alexander instinctively reached toward the figure. "Caroline..."
Through his hazy vision, the figure slowly turned its head.
"Honey..."
Alexander's cold sweat instantly soaked through his pajamas.
No! Not now! And that's not the right way to address him!
Only at Ravenwood Manor, only after Caroline lost her memory, would she call him that.
"No!"
Alexander lunged forward with a gasp and woke up, nearly falling off the bed entirely.
Caroline wasn't beside him. He was still lying in the Hamilton family's old mansion, in his own teenage bedroom.
Alexander froze for a moment, then stumbled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, slapping on the light.
The harsh white light made him squint slightly.
He looked up at the mirror on the wall.
In the mirror was a young but pale face—his sixteen-year-old self.
A dream... just a nightmare...
Just a false alarm...
But the panic dragged out by the nightmare wouldn't settle.
He wanted to see her, right now.
Alexander rushed back to the bedroom, grabbed a jacket and threw it on, then slipped silently out of the Hamilton mansion.
The night was thick, the moonlight hazy.
He was already quite familiar with climbing over that low wall and stepping into the Neville backyard again.
But standing in the empty backyard, looking up at the main building completely dark in the night, he was stumped.
It was already the middle of the night—he couldn't exactly ring the doorbell, could he?
In the dead of night, the Hamilton family's young master showing up on Neville property.
Once word got out tomorrow, Armando would definitely fly into a rage.
In this half-feverish, half-awake state, Alexander's confused brain made an almost crazy decision for him.
—Climb up.
Caroline wasn't asleep yet. She was reading a poetry collection by the warm yellow light of her bedside lamp when suddenly, a dark shadow flashed past her window in her peripheral vision.
She instinctively turned to look, only to come face to face with a dark figure hanging outside the window.
"Ah!"
Caroline screamed in fright.
Then a familiar voice came through the glass, broken and intermittent, "Caroline... it's me... Alexander..."
Caroline got another shock.
Alexander?! It really was him!
But why was he hanging outside her window?
Caroline rushed over and pushed open the window.
"Alexander?! How... how are you here?!"
She was both shocked and anxious, reaching out to pull him in but afraid that if she used too much force he'd fall.
"Are you crazy? This is the second floor!"
Alexander struggled to reach his hand toward Caroline.
"I... I think I have a fever... I feel terrible..."
Hearing this, Caroline couldn't worry about anything else. She immediately grabbed his outstretched arm.
Alexander's thin arm was alarmingly hot—she could feel the abnormal temperature even through his pajama sleeve.
Her heart sank, and she used all her strength to pull him inside.
Alexander climbed over the windowsill, but his body was too weak to hold up any longer, and he collapsed toward Caroline.
Caroline cried out as Alexander pulled her down with him, and they fell heavily onto the carpet together.
She let out a muffled grunt from the impact.
Looking up, she found herself staring directly into Alexander's eyes, so close.
The two of them had fallen together in an extremely intimate position. Caroline's face immediately turned red.
"Get up!"
"S-sorry!"
Alexander finally came to his senses a bit and fumbled to push himself up, but the weakness in his limbs from the high fever meant he couldn't muster any strength. Instead, he sank down a bit more.
Caroline was both embarrassed and anxious. She quickly pressed her hands against his chest and pushed him away a little, then took the opportunity to crawl out from under him with difficulty, kneeling on the carpet beside him.
She couldn't help glaring at Alexander.
This guy had been way too reckless today.
But seeing Alexander's pale face and rapid breathing, she still quickly pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.
Alarmingly hot.
"Oh my god, you're burning up!"
Caroline exclaimed in a low voice, her brow furrowing even tighter.
"You're this sick and you still... still climbed through a window?! Do you have a death wish?! Why didn't you call a doctor? Why didn't you stay in your room and rest properly?!"
The barrage of questions hit Alexander, leaving him completely unable to respond, only embarrassed.
What could he say?
That he'd had a nightmare about her, got so scared that even with a fever he had to climb over to check if she was there?
He could only lower his gaze and mumble vaguely, "I... didn't want to stay at home. It's too suffocating there."
This statement was half true, half false.
Armando's strict control, the heavy pressure of being the family heir—these things had indeed made him feel stifled since childhood.
Even in the nightmares that kept recurring after he grew up, these things always haunted him.
A hint of sympathy suddenly appeared in Caroline's eyes.
She couldn't help whispering, "Actually, me too..."