?Chapter 167:

    Katelyn clutched her forehead and collided with an invisible barrier.

    Vincent observed her with a frown of concern. “Sorry, are you feeling any better?”

    Katelyn merely nodded, her gaze drifting beyond Vincent. Samuel had brought the car over, which exined Vincent’s sudden stop.

    Vincent’s eyes remained fixed on Katelyn, filled with apprehension. He sensed an unease in her demeanor, as if she were a tightly wound spring forced into a semnce of calm.

    Though Vincent was familiar with Katelyn’sposure and her bouts of instability induced by the aphrodisiac, her current vulnerability was new to him.

    At that moment, she seemed as fragile as a ss doll, vulnerable to the faintest breeze.

    Vincent softly instructed, almost without realizing his gentle tone, “Get in the car.”

    Katelyn, lips pursed, obediently climbed into the vehicle. Sitting beside her in the backseat, Vincent’s gaze was tender, filled with concern.

    “Where do you live now?” he inquired.

    “South Bay,” she responded.

    Upon hearing her answer, Samuel immediately turned the car towards South Bay.

    This location was her new residence, unknown even to Aimee. Katelyn lowered the window, letting the cool night air waft in.

    With her eyes shut, she was swept into a nightmarish memory.

    At six years old, she had been confined to the attic for an entire week—a haunting memory she would never shake. Even as a child, the impact of that event had dug deep into her psyche.

    Though she was older now, the shadows of her traumatic past still visited her intermittently.

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    Vincent watched her silently, now certain that she was grappling with deep-seated psychological scars, possibly triggered by being enclosed in small spaces like elevators. The journey continued, the soft strains of piano music filling the car.

    They arrived at South Bay.

    This area consisted of standalone residences, each set apart from the others, featuring small gardens and fountains that enhanced the picturesque setting. Katelyn’s apartment was in the second building, though it sat dark and uninviting.

    Her home loomed ominously, like a somber giant. As she stepped toward it, hesitation overcame her, and she recoiled.

    Unbeknownst to others, Katelyn harbored a fear of the dark, often sleeping with a nightlight on. Typically indifferent to such fears, her recent panic attack had revived her old anxieties.

    Vincent picked up on her hesitation and offered, “I’ll walk you in and stay until you fall asleep.”

    With a worried nce, Katelyn hesitated before eventually nodding.

    Vincent led the way, using his phone’s shlight to light their path. He opened the door, illuminating her living space. This was his first visit to her home, and he was greeted by its warm decor.

    The house radiated warmth with its color scheme. The sofa was adorned with several charming throw pillows.

    Despite therge space being densely decorated with numerous small items, it surprisingly didn’t feel cluttered. Standing next to Katelyn, Vincent noticed her tiredness and said sternly, “Go to bed.”

    She nodded, trying her best toply.

    Her bedroom, located on the first floor, matched the home’s warm aesthetic.

    After a taxing day and a stressful experience in the elevator, Katelyn was physically tired but found herself unable to sleep, no matter how long she tossed and turned.

    Clutching a pillow, she was reminded of a scene where Vincent hade to her rescue, simr to moments in romance films.

    Previously, Katelyn had dismissed such scenes as dramatic fiction, but now she recognized their basis in reality.

    After a lengthy period of restlessness, she got up and left the bedroom.

    In the living room, the light was on. Vincent was engaged in a video call, headphones on.

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