You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 918

As soon as Atticus left, Patricia quietly snuck over to the icon corner and gave the doorknob a twist. She tried it again, just to be sure… locked. Of course it was. Her uncle really knew them too well.

“Chelsea!” Patricia knocked, pressing her ear to the door to catch any hint of movement inside.

Inside, Chelsea was sprawled out on the floor, swimming in self-pity. But when she heard Patricia’s voice she shot up and rushed to the door, hope flickering in her eyes. “Pattie?”

“It’s me!”

“What took you so long? I was about to shave my head and join a convent waiting for you!”

Honestly, knowing Patricia, she should have come running the second she found out. There was only one possible reason she hadn’t.

“Let me guess. Oliver didn’t tell you, did he? That traitor.”

Patricia didn’t bother answering. Chelsea had nailed it.

Instead, Patricia went straight to problem-solving. “See the window? Climb out.”

“I wish I could. If I actually do it, my dad will break my legs. He said if I try to escape, he’ll chase me all the way to Cloud Peak and finish the job.”

Chelsea had already checked the window earlier. The icon corner always smelled like incense, so it had a fancy ventilation system and a huge window. When you pulled it open, pretty much the whole wall disappeared and fresh air just poured in. Patricia had even made sure the designer did it that way.

She never thought her pretty little icon corner would turn into Chelsea’s prison.

“Forget that,” Patricia said. “Just climb out. I’ll cover for you.”

Chelsea nearly burst into tears. “Pattie, you’re the best. Blood really is thicker than water.”

She hurried to the window, yanked open the curtain, and started climbing out… only to freeze. Out in the backyard, Atticus sat in a rattan chair, calmly sipping tea and watching her like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

It was obvious he’d seen this coming.

Chelsea slowly pulled her leg back inside. She stood by the window, silent and stiff, like a nervous little bird.

Atticus took another sip of tea, his voice cool and almost amused. “Go on, keep climbing. Why’d you stop?”

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