Lennox's POV
I could see the look in their eyes.
Shock.
Fear.
Disbelief.
It was almost funny, how they stared at me like I was some ghost crawling out of the grave. As if they would do anything to shove that ghost back to wherever he came from.
My fingers tightened on the arm of the wheelchair.
I hated them.
All of them.
Sitting there, eating dinner, laughing, having fun, living their perfect little lives…
While I—
While I rotted in that hut like discarded trash.
How convenient.
The wheels scraped softly on the floor as Anabella pushed me farther into the room.
Silence.
Heavy. Thick. Suffocating.
Then…
"Lennox…?" Olivia breathed, stepping forward.
Her voice cracked like something inside her had shattered.
She ran to me, barefoot, fast, desperate, and dropped to her knees in front of me.
"This… this is not real," she whispered, touching my knee like she expected her hand to go through me. "Lennox… no… this can't be real…"
I scoffed.
