Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 87

Noah lay slumped against the grimy pipe, eyes tightly shut, his small body curled in on itself.

Charlotte scrambled along the narrow shaft, heart pounding, until she reached his side. She checked his breathing and pulse with trembling fingers—relief flooded her. He was alive, just cold and unconscious.

Quickly, she shrugged off her jacket and wrapped it around him, trying to warm his icy skin. Her voice was gentle, instinctively soothing, even as her hands shook. “Noah, don’t be afraid. I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.”

Unbeknownst to her, every word carried through a hidden earpiece, straight to Darren, who was listening anxiously outside the pipe.

His face drained of color—his son really was inside! But a second later, a different kind of shock hit him like a bolt of lightning. Why had Lottie called his son “Noah”? She’d always addressed him as “young master” before, never by his first name. Only he, his father, Xena, and—Charlotte—ever used it so intimately.

Memories flashed through Darren’s mind: the day at Sanctuary Chapel, Lottie burning those wish cards, her voice unwavering. “I swear on my life, this is Charlotte’s true wish.” The certainty in her tone… could it be? Was Lottie actually Charlotte?

No. Darren forced himself to dismiss the thought. Looks could be copied, mannerisms faked—but strength? Charlotte had always been delicate. There was no way she could have gained enough power in just two years to overpower a grown mastiff.

No, it must be Lottie trying to get close to Noah, using a sweet nickname to win his trust, planning to cash in later. Suspicious, Darren pressed his headphones tighter, desperate for proof. But suddenly, all he heard was harsh static—the receiver had gone dead.

Inside the pipe, Charlotte strapped her flashlight to her forehead and prepared to lift Noah out of this miserable place.

But then—a chilling voice cut through the darkness, right by her ear.

“I knew you’d come.”

Charlotte froze, every muscle tensed. The flashlight beam jerked downward, landing square on Noah’s face.

His eyes were open—dark, unblinking, fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Relief at his waking vanished, replaced by a cold dread as she recognized the glint of triumph in his gaze—a look far too hardened for a boy his age.

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