A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 252

That was a decidedly ambiguous comment, and Matilda forced a laugh, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "No worries, I can sleep alone just fine..."

Orson gave her a lingering look before saying, "Alright then, I'm heading up."

Matilda rose to join him, and they ascended the stairs together, choosing neighboring rooms on the upper floor. After wishing each other goodnight, they retired to their separate quarters.

She had this nagging feeling that something was left unfinished, but her mind was a jumbled mess, and she couldn't pinpoint the important thing she had forgotten.

With a hiss, Matilda massaged her temples. The day's events had been overwhelming, and she couldn't seem to find her grounding.

The memory of Yvan's gaze as she left, those deep dark eyes framed by tousled hair, his pupils fragmented and scattered, haunted her. Just thinking about it sent a pang through her heart.

Why was it that she and Yvan were always a step out of sync?

Yvan, if you ever regret your choices, can we ever go back to the way we were?

...

That night, Matilda dreamed—a dream that flung her back five years into the past, back into the cold, echoing halls of a prison. She dreamt of a thunderstorm, the rain lashing down, lightning splitting the sky, and the vision ending on Yvan's handsome, pale face. His eyes bore into her, pinning her down with their intensity.

Just one look from him, and she couldn't breathe. It felt like chains were wrapped around her, pinning her to a cross in a humiliating display.

He was calling her name, over and over. "Matilda, Matilda..."

His expression was demonic as he closed in on her, pushing her to the brink of an abyss.

"Don't come any closer... don't..." she pleaded in her dream.

Tossing and turning, Matilda finally let out a scream and woke up to find someone rolling over and pinning her down.

Her vision cleared, focusing on a face eerily reminiscent of Gideon's.

In a daze, as if still trapped in a nightmare, she reached out, tears streaming down her cheeks, and touched his face. "Brother..."

The pain bled from the depths of her heart, leaving Matilda's face ashen with anguish.

She craved redemption but found herself sinking deeper into the abyss.

It was Orson who had heard her cries for help from next door and had come to wake her from her nightmare, only to find himself in this unexpected situation.

Their eyes met, and Orson felt a sharp twinge in his chest.

She was calling him 'brother,' with a voice that sounded like she had lost someone she loved, her voice trembling. She must have been living in pain all this time, seeking comfort from the memory of someone who was no longer there.

Orson's gaze was heavy as he spoke her name, "Matilda."