Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 638

At the very end of the winding mountain road, the old temple waited, perched at the highest point.

There were still a thousand steps to climb, but with Dylan in his wheelchair, that wasn't happening.

Mrs. Ferguson bent down, her voice gentle but firm. “You take the elevator, Dylan. Tara and I will walk the stairs."

Tara stood quietly in front of her, eyes downcast, not arguing.

Guided by a monk, Dylan wheeled himself toward the side entrance.

The monastery's elevator was rarely used-built years ago by some rich family from the Capital, just for people who couldn't make the climb.

Some people believed so deeply that, even when life had worn them down and their bodies gave out, they still dragged themselves here to pray.

Dylan never understood it. He didn't believe in any of it.

He glanced up, watching Mrs. Ferguson already starting up the steps, then let his gaze fall, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

elevator had a little window, and through it he could see rolling green

here, in the mountain quiet,

to the top, he asked the

are for our guests. The higher up you pick,

of luck?" Dylan asked, sounding

answered. "Finding the one you're

didn't say anything, so the monk added, "It's best if you pick them early in the morning. That's when

noncommittal sound, letting the conversation

were notoriously hard to book; she wanted to be up at dawn for morning prayers-proof

she noticed

face of the Buddha and made her wish over

she finished, she put all the

this temple and Tara was no exception. She always felt the

abbot led them to dinner. Mrs.

rinsed her chopsticks and answered quietly, "I heard he hasn't been feeling well.

him again? She runs off, then comes back like nothing happened. All she does is