Chapter 12
Scott gripped Pamela’s thin wrist. The tangible warmth flooding his touch brought a glimmer of light to his bloodshot
eyes.
It was really her!
She wasn’t dead!
Joy surged through Scott, lifting his voice. “Pamela, I knew you couldn’t be gone!”
Pamela remained pale, her fragile frame seeming ready to buckle under a breeze.
She looked unchanged from her high school self after ten years.
A faint smile touched her lips as surprise flickered in her eyes at seeing him.
Softly, she said, “Scott… it’s been so long.”
In the next heartbeat, Scott crushed her against him.
He held her like rediscovered treasure, his voice raw and gravelly.
“Why did everyone say you died during the College Entrance Exams?”
Pamela stiffened, her tone dropping low.
“Because I needed to escape them. To leave this Blood Pack. To get away from everything that ever hurt me.”
Her gaze drifted cautiously back to him as she spoke.
“You… forgive me?”
Scott knew she meant that accident a decade ago.
Remembering her years of silent torment, his eyes softened with pain.
He gave her a tired smile. “I told you I stopped hating you long ago. I was just too stubborn to admit it. Truth is…” His voice cracked. “I never forgot you these ten years.’
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Pamela’s choked whisper reached his ears: “Me neither.”
Scott tightened his embrace.
Thank god. Thank god he’d made it in time.
Minutes ago, he’d nearly accepted her death as reality.
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I
This sudden return felt like a weight lifting from his chest.
A decade apart-he’d thought seeing Pamela again at the Blood Pack would leave him numb.
But hearing of her death had shattered everything into clarity.
Love. Resentment. They’d stolen ten years.
Now reunited, Scott would cling to this moment.
He couldn’t bear losing anyone else.
Exhaustion lining his voice, he murmured, “It’s over… Just glad you’re safe now.”
Pamela tilted her head, confusion knitting her brows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Scott shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s get you home.”
He took her to his apartment.
Handing her a glass of water, he asked gently, “How’ve you been these years?
Your condition… any relapses?”
Pamela took a small sip, her eyes unreadable.
“Fine. It’s improved a lot.”
“My mom returned to our ancestral home. I’ve stayed with the Blood Pack since college.”
Scott nodded slowly before venturing carefully,
“But if you’re with the Pack… why not live across from me?”
His voice tightened. “Didn’t… didn’t want to see me?”
Pamela paused, then offered a faint smile. “Of course not. I moved closer to work.”
“Of course I want to see you…”
Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell upon a carefully placed diary and memory card.
Pamela’s eyes flickered with unease, avoiding Scott’s questioning look.
“You… know everything?”
Scott froze momentarily, following her line of sight.
He lowered his eyes with a nod, guilt etching his features. “I’m sorry. I promised to take care of you before.”
“But I broke that promise…”
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Pamela had long moved past it, her voice softening with characteristic gentleness and thoughtfulness.
“Scott,” she whispered, “I’ll never blame you for it.”
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