Ran Away Pregnant Came Back Alpha Heiress (Amelia and Damien) novel Chapter 334

**Night Whispers Forgotten Names – Colin Shah 334**

Chapter 334

Mom and Dad flanked me like steadfast sentinels, their presence both comforting and suffocating. Jake stood close to Dad, his familiar silhouette a reminder of the bond we shared.

In the depths of my mind, Jake’s voice echoed, a haunting whisper that lingered in the recesses of my thoughts. *Do not forget us.*

“I have no intention of it,” I replied firmly, though frustration bubbled beneath the surface. It was infuriating that my family had acquiesced to this house arrest, yet despite the turmoil in my heart, I could never bring myself to harbor hatred for them. Not even for Sienna, who had become a symbol of our confinement.

With a sense of purpose, I reached for the photograph resting on the table. I carried it over to the nearby desk, ensuring it stood upright, a beacon of my past that I could see from nearly every vantage point in the room. This was my family, the essence of who I was, and that would remain unchanged, regardless of the storms that raged around us.

Sleep eluded me that night, a distant shore I could not reach. I tossed and turned, my body restless, each attempt to find comfort met with failure. Each time I closed my eyes, I was thrust back into that suffocating forest, the rope biting into my skin and the weight of a man pressing down on my back, a memory that haunted me relentlessly.

By the time the clock struck midnight, I had given up on the futile quest for slumber. An hour later, I abandoned any hope of comfort altogether. Dressed in my pajamas, my feet bare against the cool floor, I slipped out of my room and ventured into the dimly lit hallway of our sleeping home. The walls were adorned with photographs, and I moved closer, straining to discern the faces and places that danced in the shadows.

Many of the pictures featured Amelia, some capturing moments with her and Damien. As I gazed at those images, a face so strikingly similar to mine stared back, stirring a mix of nostalgia and sorrow within me that I struggled to comprehend.

Turning away from the poignant reminders of the past, I made my way toward the banister railing near the staircase. A faint glow caught my attention, emanating from the den below.

Could that be Damien? Was he also wrestling with insomnia tonight?

I descended the stairs cautiously, each step deliberate as I approached the den. There, I found Damien, a glass of whiskey in hand, his demeanor calm and composed. His eyes remained clear, betraying none of the intoxication I had feared.

“Can’t sleep?” he inquired, his voice steady.

I nodded slowly, my gaze wandering around the room. It felt strangely familiar, as if I had wandered through this very dream before, in one of those fantastical reveries that often eluded my grasp. But how could that be? How could I recall a place I had never truly visited?

An unusual thought crept back into my mind, one I often tried to dismiss for fear of nurturing a hope that felt impossibly out of reach. Yet tonight, perhaps it was the late hour or the weight of our shared silence, but the impossible felt strangely within grasp.

In the stillness of the night, cloaked in shadows, I whispered, “Do you think it’s possible that I could be Amelia and not remember?”

Damien took a long sip of his whiskey, contemplating my question before he replied, “No.”

His answer was the one I had anticipated, yet it pierced through me, leaving a dull ache in its wake. “No?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You have a wolf, Annette,” Damien explained, his tone serious. “Amelia was just a human. I know this for certain because I was the one who plucked her from the human realm.” He sighed, shaking his head as if to dispel the very notion. “I considered it myself, but no. It’s utterly impossible.”