Chapter 443 Nightmare
As night fell, Emma tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Dreams surged like a tidal wave, engulfing her in an instant.
The dream began with her standing in a desolate, white wasteland. The cold wind howled around her, as if trying to freeze her to the bone. Suddenly, George's figure emerged from the mist, his eyes cold and sharp, glinting with a bloodthirsty light.
"Did you really think you could escape?" George's voice echoed in the wind, carrying a chilling, sinister laugh.
He forcefully pushed Emma towards the icy lake nearby. She struggled desperately, her slender fingers grasping at the air, but she couldn't stop herself from falling into the water. The freezing cold hit her like a knife, enveloping her instantly.
Water filled Emma's lungs, and she felt herself suffocating. She tried to rise to the surface, but an invisible force held her down. Through the murky water, George's cruel face appeared, mocking her futile efforts.
Just as she was about to lose consciousness, the scene shifted abruptly.
She found herself in a pitch-black room, so dark it seemed to swallow everything. She was blind, her body covered in wounds, each one silently crying out in pain. George whispered in her ear like a demon, "Did you think you deserved my love? You're just a pawn in my revenge."
Each word lashed at her fragile soul like a barbed whip. Emma trembled violently, her hoarse voice barely managing a plea, "Please forgive me, I didn't know anything."
The scene changed again, this time more brutal. George, like a demon from hell, overpowered her with a vengeance. Every move he made was filled with a sadistic pleasure. Emma felt her dignity being torn apart piece by piece, her screams echoing from the depths of hell, yet no one could hear her.
In the dream, Emma was covered in blood, every inch of her skin trembling in agony. George's face loomed closer, his eyes filled with merciless cruelty and vengeful delight. He whispered in her ear, "This is your fate, so you are destined to pay the price."
The scene shifted once more. This time, Emma found herself in a giant glass room. Inside, George and Anna were tightly embracing, causing a sharp pain in Emma's heart.
Anna looked at Emma with a taunting gaze and smirked, "See, he never loved you."
George kissed Anna, their actions intimate and unrestrained. Emma stood on the other side of the glass, crying silently, but no one noticed. She pounded on the glass, her lips moving, but no sound came out.
He turned to Emma, "Did you really think I ever loved you? Stop dreaming."
Anna caressed George's face with a triumphant look, "She was just a pawn in your revenge, right?"
George nodded, his eyes devoid of any pity. They kissed in front of Emma, each action tearing at her soul. Anna looked at the broken Emma with a victorious smile, as if declaring her win.
In the dream, Emma collapsed to the ground, her desperate cries echoing in the silent space.
She felt herself being swallowed by endless darkness. Each fragment of the dream seemed to reveal some deeply buried, terrifying truth. She howled in pain in the dream, her body trembling violently, on the verge of breaking down.
When she woke up with a start, she was drenched in cold sweat, her sheets soaked through. Every detail of the dream was so vivid, as if suppressed memories had finally surfaced. The details were so clear, it was as if she had actually lived through those scenes.
Anna's words in prison replayed in her mind: George was a fraud, approaching her for revenge. Could these dreams be her lost memories?
Emma's heart was filled with dread. She began to believe that George might not be the man she thought loved her. Who was the boy she truly fell in love with by the sea? And what was George's real motive for approaching her?
The night was cloaked in darkness, the room silent and oppressive, her nightgown soaked with sweat. She took deep breaths, trying to calm her turbulent emotions, but the fear and unease remained.
She felt as if she were bound by something invisible, trapped in a cold lake. Each time she recalled the scenes from her dream, George's cold face, and the ensuing painful memories, her fear deepened.
Just as she tried to regain her composure, she heard hurried footsteps and a knock on the door, her heart tightening. The voice that followed was George's.
"Emma, are you okay? Can I come in?"
Emma hesitated for a moment but didn't respond. The door opened, and George walked in anxiously. In the dim light, his expression was filled with worry.
"I heard you calling out, what happened?" He quickly approached her, his eyes shining with urgency.
His concern sent a warm wave through Emma's heart, but it also brought a strange fear. She loved George deeply, trying to force herself to believe in his innocence, but the shadows of the dream lingered.
Emma shrank back, Anna's words from prison echoing in her mind: He approached you for revenge, and he never truly loved you. At this moment, she couldn't be sure if the George before her was trustworthy.
Seeing Emma's lack of response, George grew more anxious, repeatedly asking, "Did Michael say something to you? Emma, whatever he said, he's lying. Don't believe him, okay?"
Emma nodded slightly, a hint of unease crossing her mind.
She didn't want to reveal her secret meeting with Anna today. As George mentioned Michael, her confusion only deepened. Michael's care and gentleness surfaced in her mind, making her even more bewildered.
Michael was just George's uncle, and she had no real connection with him. So why did she feel an inexplicable familiarity with Michael?
It was as if they had lived together for a long time.
Why?
"You look exhausted, are you feeling unwell? Can I hold you while you rest?"
Emma instinctively took a step back, a strong sense of defensiveness rising within her. She didn't want to be too close to him; the current feeling reminded her of the unbearable experiences in her nightmare. Her fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly, her face pale.
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