Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1202

“I’m telling you, I’m done with this!”

Rebecca steeled herself, swung her legs off the bed, and stormed out of the room.

“Rebecca White!”

Francis tried to go after her, but that kick she’d landed on him earlier… she hadn’t exactly aimed for a safe spot.

The pain was blinding.

He had to catch his breath.

Once he’d recovered, he dashed out the door in pursuit.

Rebecca didn’t have a car. She couldn’t have gone far.

Francis jumped into his own, but by the time he made it outside, there was no trace of Rebecca anywhere.

She didn’t own property in Sunhaven, and it was late. Where could she possibly go?

Only one place came to mind: Sherilyn Gomez’s.

He spun the wheel and headed straight for Blue Haven.

On the way, he tried calling Rebecca, but she refused to answer. Frustrated, he tossed the phone aside and pressed harder on the gas.

When he arrived at Blue Haven, Sherilyn was in the living room, watching Gilbert Johnson take his medication.

“Francis?” she looked up, surprised.

Her younger brother and sister both stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Sherilyn.” Francis rubbed his brow, exhausted. “Rebecca—did she come here to see you?”

“No,” Sherilyn replied, genuinely confused. “Why would you think that? Did you two have a fight?”

So she hadn’t come here. Francis gave a weary laugh. “We had a bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

He hesitated, worry etched on his face. “Do you have any idea where else she might go?”

Sherilyn thought for a moment. “Maybe… could she have gone to her grandfather’s place?”

“Of course.” Francis nodded, relief flooding his features. He shot Sherilyn a grateful look.

“Always the sharp one. Thanks, Sherilyn. Sorry to barge in—I’ll get going.”

He was gone as quickly as he’d come, leaving only a rush of air in his wake.

Sherilyn blinked, then turned back to Gilbert. “Well? Don’t just sit there. Drink your medicine.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she left the dining room and headed upstairs.

Sherilyn stayed perfectly still, as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

Gilbert sighed, not for the first time. “Alright then… goodnight.”

He reached over and switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Sherilyn’s eyes remained open, fixed on a thin sliver of light sneaking in through the curtains. She felt no trace of sleepiness.

She hadn’t taken the medication Dr. Wilson had prescribed.

The insomnia had started again… just like that year.

She didn’t move until she heard Gilbert’s breathing settle into a steady rhythm. Only then did she gingerly slip out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

She unscrewed the cap of an empty conditioner bottle—she’d long ago replaced the contents with her pills.

She shook one out, split it in half, and swallowed half dry, without water.

A sleeping pill. At least she’d get some rest.

She set the bottle back in its hiding place, eyes flicking briefly to another bottle she’d never opened.

Sherilyn’s gaze lingered, then she screwed the cap back on and tucked the bottle away.