Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Quella nodded with a warm chuckle. “Blessed be. Foebe is lucky to have you.”

Colin stood off to the side, quiet as a church mouse, a stark contrast to his usual charming self. His presence felt cold, almost detached. This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

I had this sinking feeling that he didn’t take to Foebe’s grandmother all too kindly.

“Foebe, darling, I just don’t get your folks. Why on Earth would they push you to tie the knot with the Langleys? How much dowry did they pocket? I raised you, sweetheart. Surely, your dear old grandma should get a heads–up before any of that money reaches your mcm and dad, right?” Quella said, her voice sugary sweet, feigning concern for her.

I stiffened. There was something off about Foebe’s grandmother. She was nothing like I’d imagined. I thought she genuinely cared for Foebe, but now it didn’t seem quite so.

“Foebe, why don’t you give Coraline a ring, have her come by for a visit?” Quella whispered, blatantly ignoring Colin.

Perhaps she thought Colin was none the wiser.

“Also, before I got hospitalized, your brother mentioned wanting to buy a house. He’s not your blood, sure, but you grew up in our family, didn’t you? Your uncle looked after you too.”

When I didn’t respond, Quella spoke again, a little more hushed. “Foebe, that dimwit Colin, does he have any money? Enough to help your brother get a place? Nothing big, just a modest home in the suburbs of Sea City, maybe 1,000 square feet or so. And if he could swing a car too,

that’d be the cherry on top.”

I stared at Foebe’s grandmother in disbelief. A house in Sea City’s suburbs? Even the most basic ones run a quarter of a million per square foot. Was she out of her mind, or was it Colin? Why should anyone bankroll a house for someone they barely knew?

“Grandma, he’s broke as a joke, and he holds no standing within the Langleys. Because of his condition, everyone bullies us,” I said, feigning distress.

But Quella glossed over my plight, pressing on. “Well, he’s certainly no Dexter. Dexter runs some big– shot company; he could afford it. He seems sweet on you. Maybe drop a hint his way?”

“Grandma, Colin’s not feeling too hot, I need to get him back to his room. You rest up, I’ll come around another day,” I said, dodging her demands and pulling Colin out of the room.

“Foebe Larson, growing wings now that you’re back with your birth parents?” Quella spat out angrily.

Was this old bat serious?

“Do you know how Foebe Larson’s adoptive parents died?” Colin’s voice was dark and heavy as we walked down the corridor. Suddenly, he didn’t seem the fool.

“Huh?” I was genuinely clueless about the fate of Foobe’s adoptive parents,

“Shot while resisting arrest. Accidental death,” he said solemnly.

That had been the root of his disdain for Foebe.

“Human traffickers.”

The whole lot of them.

Foebe’s grandmother was part of the ring. She’d parade Foebe around homeless kids, pretending to be friendly, all the while waiting for buyers to make their move,

I looked at Colin, stunned. Had he known all this from the start?

Foebe Larson was indeed shrouded in secrets,

“Foebe Larson, are you alright?” As we entered the elevator, it seemed we had bumped into someone from Foebe’s past.

She greeted me, concerned.

Feeling a bit dazed, I replied, “Oh? I’m fine.”

“I was so worried when you asked for all that quinidine the other day. Afraid you might do something rash,” the acquaintance sighed with relief. “You said it was for your grandma, but I asked the doc, and he said your grandma already had her prescription. I was scared stiff trying to reach you, afraid you might be… you know…”

My body tensed. Quinidine?

“Do you remember when I asked for it?”

She paused, thinking, “It was the 17th last month.”

I glanced at Colin instinctively. That was the day Foebe died, the very day I had come back.

Foebe’s death hadn’t been an accident. She had intentionally overdosed on quinidine, leading to a cardiac toxicity and sudden death. Foebe had taken her own life.