Chapter 503 Flee
Seren was buying her time to escape, and Lillian didn't dare look back.
She went through the secret door, ascended the path behind the house, and dashed towards the northern woods as instructed by Seren.
Seren said someone would meet her, and Lillian trusted her.
Clutching her abdomen, head down, she ran swiftly towards the forest, filled with fear and worry.
She didn't know if Seren could handle those people. What if something happened to Seren?
She was also scared she couldn't protect Taylor.
Those people probably weren't Jackson's men; their silent arrival meant trouble.
If they were from the Price family, did they want Taylor's life or hers too?
A cold wind blew, and Lillian's hat fell off.
She didn't dare turn back, stumbling faster with her hair lashing against her cheeks, chilling her to the bone.
The snow reflected her pale face, and all she could hear was her frantic footsteps crunching in the snow and her heavy breathing.
She tripped and stumbled, biting back a cry, fearing to draw attention.
She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and tears still fell.
She protected her belly, bracing for pain.
But then, a figure rushed over.
Lillian didn't fall into the snow but into a man's arms.
He caught her, and they both fell to the ground.
"Let go of me! Get away!"
Terrified, Lillian opened her eyes and struggled before she could see the man's face.
She cried out, and the gun she was holding struck the man's forehead.
The man grunted and let go.
Lillian got up, stumbled back, and shakily pointed the gun at the man who was also getting up.
"Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot!"
Her vision blurred with fear.
But her bluff didn't scare the man. He stepped closer.
He grasped her cold, trembling hand, pressing the gun barrel against his chest, and spoke in a low, gentle voice.
"Don't be afraid, shoot here."
The voice was clear and familiar on the snowy night.
The hand covering hers was steady and warm, guiding her to press the gun against him.
It was as if he genuinely entrusted his life to her fingers, indifferent to death.
Lillian gradually pulled herself out of her fear, her ears still ringing, and she trembled as she lifted her eyelashes.
She saw the familiar, stern face of the man, his tall figure shielding her from the wind and snow.
Behind him was the magnificent northern lights.
Lillian stared at him, feeling weak all over.
Her heart raced, but she couldn't discern whether she felt more nervous, scared, or relieved. Jackson had startled her, standing motionless and observing her.
Until Lillian's body went limp, and she fell forward, the gun slipping from her hand.
Jackson caught the gun with one hand, pulled the trigger to secure it, and caught Lillian in his arms, gently whispering, "It's okay, it's my fault, I came too late."
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