Crises in Love novel Chapter 517

I exchanged a glance with Hannah, muttering under my breath, "Could she really have left the house? But where could she go?"

Hannah looked at me and suggested, "Maybe we should check the backyard again. Do you think she might have gone to the gazebo?"

"At this hour? By herself? That seems unlikely," I replied skeptically.

"We've been hanging out in the gazebo these past few days. Maybe she got used to it?" Hannah speculated.

I nodded, conceding the point. Indeed, we had spent a lot of time there recently, sending a clear message to any potential trespassers that it was occupied. She might have headed in that direction.

I took Camilla's hand and we turned to head back towards the backyard, though a part of my mind wondered about Fidelia's courage. It was pitch dark, and yet she had the guts to venture out alone. Monique would never have even entertained such an idea.

Our back-and-forth commotion eventually roused Galen. He came out of his room, wrapped in a robe, and asked, "What's going on?"

Camilla immediately flushed with embarrassment and apologized profusely to my father, "Mr. Wilburn, we think Fidelia has run off."

Galen, puzzled, looked at me for an explanation. I gave him a brief rundown and reassured him, "You go back to bed. We'll handle this. It’s dark, and she couldn't have gone far."

I didn't want Camilla to feel more anxious with Galen around.

He nodded, trying to ease Camilla's worry, "Don't fret. She knows this place like the back of her hand. She'll be fine."

"I'm so sorry for disturbing your rest," she said, bowing her head repeatedly in a humble attempt to smooth things over.

Hannah, getting impatient, urged, "Enough apologies, and let's hurry to the backyard."

Galen waved us off, "Go on then and remember, don’t scold her when you find her. Speak gently."

I pulled Camilla along, hastening our pace towards the backyard.

The backyard was quite expansive, with a bamboo grove, a well, and a row of servant quarters that had long been converted into storage spaces, usually kept locked.

Opposite the bamboo stood a sizable pond, covered in water lilies, with an octagonal pavilion adjoining the veranda for a better view of the lilies. In the dead of night, only the leaves rustled, creating unsettling shadows.

Despite our calls, there was no response.