?Chapter 1105:


    Caught up in his turmoil, Rhys barely registered the ring horn.


    He stumbled as a ck car zoomed by, sshing muddy water all over him.


    Following behind were several more vehicles—first a white car, then a yellow one, and another ck one.


    Each passed by quickly, leaving Rhys stranded in the middle of the road. The ring horns felt like they were piercing through him.


    Trying to regain some control, Rhys dashed to arge rock beside the road and huddled against it, hoping for some refuge. The rock offered little protection, barely fitting his adult frame.


    Frustrated, Rhys banged his head against the stone.


    His ten-year-old mindset had led him to underestimate the situation.


    He regretted leaving the only ce he knew without a solid n.


    He should have thought his actions through first.


    Overwhelmed with self-criticism, Rhys bit his lip hard, as if trying to draw strength from his own resolve.


    Just then, footsteps sshed through the puddles as they drew closer. The rain above Rhys lessened in intensity, reced by the soft sound of raindrops tapping against an umbre.


    Despite this, Rhys stubbornly kept his gaze lowered.


    He couldn’t bear the thought of being seen in such a deste state.


    Noticing his reluctance, Harlee crouched beside him, offering a gentle smile.


    “Rhys, I’vee to take you home,” she said softly.


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    Rhys raised his head in disbelief, and at that moment, the only sound that reached him was Harlee’s tender voice.


    Harlee retrieved a tissue from her pocket, knelt down, and, with a gentle smile, wiped the rain from his face.


    “Let’s head home,” she said softly.


    At this, Rhys remained rigid, crouched where he was, his gaze fixed on Harlee.


    Her touch felt soothing, gentle, and caring, much like his mother tending to his father.


    “Harlee…” Rhys muttered, his voice stiff.


    Harlee’s posture stiffened slightly, her eyes welling up, but she smiled warmly.


    “What is it?”


    Her calm voice and movements stirred an unexinable desire in Rhys to draw closer.


    But he wasn’t naive.


    He knew she wasn’t seeing him—she was seeing the thirty-three-year-old Rhys.


    “Did you push me outside earlier on purpose?” he asked, stressing each word, his sharp gaze filled with hostility.


    After escaping those watchful eyes, Rhys had gone to Christopher and used unorthodox methods to uncover recent events.


    He had been poisoned, and today marked the second day after taking the antidote. Initially, he had lost all memories after being detoxified. Realizing this, he concluded that the earlier trouble likely stemmed from Harlee’s actions.


    Her goal was to force him to reim more memories from wandering outside.


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