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.

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