Lyndon knew that voice too well.


    It was Tilda’s voice, unmistakably so.


    Lyndon froze as Elma’s voice called out Tilda’s name in distress.


    He spun around to see Tilda standing right in front of him.


    Her face drained of color, a pair of scissors jutting out from her back.


    Her white clothes were smeared with blood.


    She had been stabbed.


    Lyndon’s eyes narrowed in shock.


    Acting swiftly, he delivered a forceful kick to Evita, who was reaching for the scissors lodged in Tilda’s back.


    His gaze turned cold and unforgiving.


    Evita copsed to the floor, dazed and unable to get back up.


    Her attendant, who hade with her to the hospital, hurried over to help.


    “Miss, are you okay?” the attendant asked urgently.


    Evita winced, holding her abdomen as she struggled to stand.


    ncing at Tilda, the attendant eximed anxiously to Evita, “Miss, you’ve hurt someone! What should we do?”


    Evita had rushed into action a moment ago, but now, with Lyndon’s cold stare fixed on her, she was shaking with fear.


    “We need to leave, now!” she said frantically.


    Meanwhile, Elma supported Tilda.All text ? N?velD(r)a''ma.Org.


    “Tilda, how are you feeling?” she asked, her voice trembling with worry.


    Tilda managed a faint smile.


    “I’m okay.


    Don’t worry.


    ”


    Okay?


    Her face was as pale as a sheet!


    Lyndon’s lips tightened in a grim line.


    Ignoring Evita’s attempts to flee, he handed Sheldon to Elma.


    “Elma, take care of Sheldon.


    I’ll get Tilda to a doctor,” he said firmly.


    Tilda needed medical attention urgently.