Chapter 1812

chapter1812

Fortunately, Jamie had always been sincere with his family.

At that moment, the bracelet on Vivian's wrist began to glow faintly, its warmth seeping into her skin. She furrowed her brows, her thoughts immediately turning to Manfred. They had seen each other just days before, and the bracelet never activated without reason.

"Uncle Harvey, I need to use the restroom. My stomach hurts," she said, immediately stopping Harvey.

Harvey glanced at her, concerned, and immediately pulled the car over. "A stomach ache? There's a hospital nearby. Should we stop there?"

Vivian shook her head, clutching her stomach with a pained expression. "No need for that. I think it's just the ice cream I had earlier. It upset my stomach, but I'll feel better after using the restroom. There's a public restroom over there. I'll be quick. Don't worry."

Noticing her urgency, Harvey gave a quick nod. "Alright, go ahead. I can't stay parked here for long. I'll find another spot."

"Okay!"

As soon as she stepped out of the car, Vivian made her way toward the subway station. Once inside the restroom, she vanished.

When she reappeared, the world around her was shrouded in darkness. The air was thick with the pungent scent of blood, sharp and unmistakable. This wasn't Manfred's place.

Vivian quickly pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. The faint beam revealed a pile of wood and hay scattered across the floor. Then, her eyes landed on a figure sprawled nearby.

The person's back was marred with whip marks, the wounds raw and oozing. The strong scent of blood came from them.

Vivian felt her heart drop. Her instincts told her this was another person who needed her help-someone new-but a wave of confusion overwhelmed her. How had she come to be here?

She stepped closer, her light falling on the man's profile. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Manfred!"

It was him. She couldn't believe he was so gravely injured and confined to this place.

The room resembled a storage shed,

a space often used for punishment

in Manfred's era. Her mind raced.

ac

Manfred have endured

these past few days?

But now wasn't the time to dwell. His injuries were too serious, and the shed

offered nothing but cold and emptiness.

He still wore the same ragged clothes from before, now stained with blood, a grim testament to the wounds hidden underneath.

"Who did this to you? Stay here. I'll get some medical supplies. Hold on, Manfred," she murmured.

She then took off her cashmere coat and quickly draped it over him. She carefully looked him over. He lay on a bed of straw, the only thing serving as a cushion beneath him.

The most pressing concern was tending to his wounds. Until then, the cashmere

coat would at least provide some warmth.

With that, she left.

Moments later, Manfred began to stir. His eyes slowly opened, but the world around him remained

shrouded in darkness. Yet, for a brief moment, it seemed as though a flicker of light had crossed his vision. In a weak voice, tinged with hope, he murmured, "Is she here?

But there was no answer. His heavy eyelids fell shut again, and he drifted into unconsciousness.