Taking Back What My Sister Stole novel Chapter 305

Chapter305

Wesley ordered in a low voice.

Elijah acknowledged before hesitantly adding, “But if Mrs. Carlton learns the truth…”

“If anyone dares leak this,” Wesley’s voice turned dangerous, “they’ll face the consequences.”

“Understood.”

When Cecilia woke, she found herself in a hospital bed.

She stared disoriented at the ceiling before dawning realization hit. She jolted upright.

Corrine.

Corrine was dead.

She had to see Corrine one last time.

She hurriedly ran to the door, just as Wesley pushed it open.

“Cilla, you’re awake.”

Wesley steadied her arm,

Cecilia grabbed his sleeve, her tone urgent, “Where’s Corrine?”

sleeve,

Wesley half–guided, half–forced her to sit on the sofa. Crouching

before her, he said gravely, “Corrine has been cremated. Today is her funeral.”

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“What?”

Cecilia’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even see her, I-”

“Cilla, you’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Cecilia froze.

She’d slept for two days?

“Corrine had been in the water for days. We couldn’t delay arrangements, so she was cremated.”

Wesley kept his voice calm, stating facts. “I’ll take you to the funeral.”

Corrine had few close friends or relatives, making the service simple.

By the time Cecilia arrived, it had already concluded.

Elijah was handling matters with the cemetery staff.

Staring at the photograph of Corrine smiling radiantly, Cecilia’s heart shattered. Her legs buckled, nearly collapsing.

“Cilla, stay strong.”

Wesley wrapped an arm around her, offering support.

Cecilia pushed Wesley away. Staggering forward, she knelt before the gravestone.

Trembling fingers traced the photo on the tombstone.

Tears fell like rain.

“Corrine.”

She wept uncontrollably.

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Wesley stood nearby, gazing into the distance.

If Cecilia knew the truth, she would surely blame him.

But he couldn’t watch her health deteriorate any further.

He had no other choice.

I’m sorry, Cilla.

After ten minutes, he slowly approached and lifted Cecilia into his

arms.

“Cilla, you must take care of yourself. Otherwise, Corrine won’t rest in peace seeing you grieve like this for her.”

Cecilia stopped struggling.

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched Wesley’s shirt.

Finally, she went limp, releasing her grip. Eyes closed, she remained silent.

Wesley exhaled in relief, carrying her back to the car.

He brought her to Chaston Villa.

When they arrived, he carried her inside straight to the master bedroom.

Wesley kissed Cecilia’s forehead. “Rest now. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

He hurried out.

Cecilia lay on the soff bed, clutching the quilt as tears streamed down again.

Desolate and bewildered, her heart felt barren.

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She wanted to weep, yet no tears would come.

As if her world had plunged into darkness.

When Wesley returned after handling affairs, Cecilia had risen. Curling up on the window–side chaise, she lay sideways–a picture of utter solitude.

Wesley’s heart clenched.

Pressing his lips thin, he tiptoed closer. His palm covered her forehead as he gently inquired:

“Why sleep here?”

Cecilia’s gaze was as calm as water.

Not her usual calm, but desolate and hopeless, utterly still.

Wesley’s heart skipped a beat. He grabbed her wrist. “Cilla, look at me.”

Cecilia lifted her eyes to meet his.

Normally, she would’ve pulled away from his touch.

But now, she let him hold her hand–no struggle, no anger.

Unease twisted in Wesley’s chest.

He sensed the change in her.

A lifelessness, thick with despair,

His throat bobbed. He knew Corrine’s death had shattered Cecilia.

But he hadn’t expected this depth of brokenness.

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It was as if… she’d lost all will to live.

??Wesley carried Cecilia back to the bed.

She still didn’t struggle.

He kissed the corner of her lips, yet her expression remained blank.

Panic welled up inside Wesley.

He couldn’t help but hold Cecilia tightly against him, his lips brushing her ear as he kept calling her name.

“Cilla, look at me.”

“Cilla, don’t scare me like this, okay?”

Cecilia stayed silent, her gaze fixed somewhere distant, utterly calm and devoid of anxiety.

Wesley carefully touched her cheek, then took her hand–her fingertips were ice cold.

He pulled out his phone and called Elijah. “Arrange for a doctor to come immediately.”

Elijah asked, “What kind of doctor?”

“Arrange… a psychiatrist. No, have him wait. We’re coming there.”

Wrapping Cecilia in his coat, Wesley hurried downstairs.