The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 126

The maid smiled and shook her head. "I wouldn't know about that, Miss."

Saying no more, Celia drank the hot tea and took the medication the staff had prepared, then dragged her heavy body up to the third floor.

Closing her door, she fell back onto the bed and opened her chat with Alistair again.

The screen still showed their conversation from earlier at the office.

Tapping the screen, she typed out a new message.

Celia: [I'm home. I've already taken my medicine, so don't worry.]

She had no idea if the man on the other end saw it.

About ten minutes later, he finally replied.

Alistair: [Hmm.]

Nothing more. Just one syllable.

Staring at the screen, she raised an eyebrow.

Was he... angry?

Her eyelids felt too heavy, her brain moving sluggishly.

She knew he was probably upset, but she couldn't figure out why. Her mind was a chaotic, throbbing mess.

If she couldn't figure it out, she wouldn't try. Tossing her phone aside, she pulled the covers up and closed her eyes.

She started to dream.

In the dream, she was tied down in a psychiatric ward. Evelyn Morgan was walking toward her, step by step, holding a dagger.

"What makes you think you can fight me, Celia? I'm the real Stafford heiress! Everything you have was supposed to be mine! Mine!"

"Talbot is mine, Grandpa is mine, and Alistair is mine!"

"You're nothing but a fraud riding on the Stafford name! Without that title, you are absolutely nothing!"

"When Alistair finds out you aren't even a real Stafford, he will distance himself from you! He'll be disgusted by you! He'll throw you away!"

"You deserve to die, Celia!"

"No—"

With a violent gasp, she jolted awake!

She bolted upright in bed, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

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