Regret Came Too Late (Grace and Ethan) novel Chapter 446

Grace stayed at the hospital well into the evening. She hadn't slept much lately and eventually dozed off, slumped over the edge of Liam's bed.

Three hours later, a doctor gently woke her up.

"Ms. Lambert, you should go home and get some rest. Liam's still unconscious—you'll collapse before he even wakes up."

Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. She rubbed them and asked, "His fever still isn't going down?"

The doctor sighed. "It all depends on him now. He seems stuck on something mentally. As his family, maybe try talking to him—see if it helps."

But Grace didn't even know what Liam's hang-up was.

She got up and went home, where she collapsed into bed from sheer exhaustion.

A noise outside her window startled her awake in the middle of the night.

She flicked on the lamp beside her and froze. Outside her window, a strange man was crouched, holding a tool and clearly about to smash the glass.

It was a terrifying sight—if her nerves weren't steel by now, she probably would've screamed.

The man clearly hadn't expected the lights to come on. He panicked and swung the tool, but Grace moved faster. She grabbed a chair and slammed it against the window.

He had no safety gear—no harness, no rope. He'd climbed up by hand. The force of the chair knocked him clean off, and he crashed to the ground below.

The sound of a body hitting pavement jolted the nearby patrol to attention. Within minutes, police sirens lit up the block.

The man had died instantly.

Grace stood at her window, watching officers swarm the scene. Her adrenaline was finally fading, but her mind stayed sharp.

The cops came up to her apartment, and one of them blinked when he saw her face.

"Ms. Lambert... it's you again?"

She'd had more than a few run-ins with the cops lately. Calmly, she explained what had happened.

The officers surveyed the shattered glass and exchanged a look. One of them pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Come with us for a statement. We'll verify the guy's identity soon."

Grace grabbed a coat and followed them to the police station.

After driving for a bit, she pulled over and stepped out, her eyes sweeping the shadows.

"Alright. Come out," she said.

But in the darkness, everything was still and silent. Perhaps she was imagining things.

She frowned and spoke again, her voice low but steady. "I can feel you. You're not here to hurt me."

The words had barely left her mouth when faint footsteps echoed through the night. A shadow emerged from the darkness, slowly approaching.

Lately, Grace had noticed subtle changes in herself—something strange. It was as if she could sense things—like when someone was watching her, even before she saw them.

As the figure stepped into the dim light, she blinked in surprise. "Wait. Lyle?"

He was dressed head to toe in black athletic wear, a small braid hanging loosely over his shoulder.

"Yeah, it's me," he said simply.

Grace jerked her chin toward the car. "Come on. Let's talk in the car."