Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 419: She had often wondered if Ethan might seek her out, particularly during those vulnerable, late-night hours. Despite the pain he had caused, when Charlotte was sick or when Nyla felt most alone, she recalled how Ethan had once rescued her from despair. And yet, he was the same person who had driven her back into despair. "You've mistaken me for someone else," Nyla replied once she collected herself, her tone cold and detached. "What? But..." Callie blinked, turning to Ethan.

"Ethan, are you certain it's her?" Ethan's gaze locked onto Nyla's face, searching her expression as though trying to read a book in a foreign language-one that might hold the truth he sought. But Nyla wasn't about to linger for his silent inquisition. Without hesitation, she descended the hospital stairs like a shadow slipping away at dawn, leaving no trace behind. She wasn't about to stand trial-not today, not ever. Sliding into her car, she exhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling as though she'd just outrun a storm.

Only then did the chill of sweat clinging to her back remind her how close she'd danced to danger. Thank heavens Ethan hadn't seen her with Charlotte. She needed to wrap up her business in Ulares and vanish before the past could tighten its grip around her. Inside the hospital, the silence between Ethan and Callie stretched taut, like the stillness before a thunderclap. Without a word, Ethan strode toward his car, his thoughts racing ahead of him, leaving Callie to trail behind like a kite barely tethered to its string. "Ethan, slow down!

I can't keep up!" she called out, her voice tinged with frustration and a sprinkle of wounded pride. Ethan didn't so much as glance her way. Sliding into the driver's seat, his mind was a whirlpool, swirling with fragments of the encounter. Lᴧtєѕt ϲhαptєrs n glovєl.m Nyla-alive and breathing. He had questions-questions that clawed at him. What was she doing at the hospital? Could there be more to the story buried in the sands of time? Callie clambered into the passenger seat, clenching her fists as her displeasure simmered. "Ethan, do you think she really might be Nyla?

Why did she act so strange? Maybe she's haunted by guilt-maybe she did kill Stella and now she's running scared." Callie's words dripped with insinuation, like poison seeping into a well. "And look at her now, draped in luxury. Could she have remarried and started a new life?" Ethan's knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the tension in the car crackling like static electricity. Callie quickly shifted gears. "Oh, I'm just thinking out loud. Maybe she's not Nyla at all. Let's not dwell on it, Ethan.

Let's head back." Her eyes darted to Ethan's face, aflicker of satisfaction danced in her gaze, as though she'd planted the seeds of doubt and was watching them take root. After dropping Callie off, Ethan drove to Maple Cloud, the place he now called home. The once-grand Maple Villa had been transformed into an expansive park, its lush greenery now a canvas for serenity. Nearby stood a house Ethan had purchased, a near replica of the original Maple Villa, though scaled down, like a memory softened by time. . . .