fanqie novel
Chapter 258
Yall have been totally hoodwinked by her, Melody spat through gritted teeth, her voice dripping with
venom.
“And why hasn’t anyone been charmed by you, huh? You’ve always played the sly one well. How come Dexter snapped out of it? What does that tell you? It tells you that you still have a long way to go, you sneaky witch.”
A scuffle broke out between Stella and Melody.
“Quiet down, this is a hospital!” a nurse chastised as she stepped out of a nearby room.
Soon after, the corridor fell silent again.
I was still struggling inside, praying Stella wouldn’t leave, that she wouldn’t let Dexter sweep me away. I was terrified… afraid he’d actually take me to that Damian.
I feared I’d forget Colin.
“The patient is very weak. We’ve managed to keep the baby stable, but we need to observe her for a while longer. She absolutely must not undergo any more stress,” the doctor announced before leaving, giving Dexter a few instructions.
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Of course.”
“How’s Phoebe doing?”
Just as I was beginning to think I could awaken from this nightmare, I heard that middle–aged man’s voice.
It was Damian.
My nerves tensed instantly.
“Phoebe still hasn’t come to, but the baby’s safe,” Dexter breathed a sigh of relief.
“Get rid of those two bickering women outside and take Phoebe away,” Damian sounded displeased.
Panicked, I desperately tried to open my eyes. I didn’t want to be taken away.
I wasn’t sure if my past amnesia was related to Damian, but knowing he was a psychiatrist and that he worked at that mental institution, I just couldn’t trust him.
Deep down, I found him terrifying.
“Damian, will it work?” Dexter whispered.
“Don’t worry, it will,” Damian replied with unnerving confidence.
The more confident he sounded, the more my fear grew.
Memories started to flood back.
I remembered… my parents did take me to a mental institution to see Damian.
My first impression of him was that he was frightening.
He smiled too kindly and called my name. “Phoebe, come with me.”
He led me down a long, deep corridor, past rooms filled with patients in hospital gowns. I looked at them,
then back at my parents, who stood at the end of the corridor, weeping.
11:26
They were so desperate for me to be like a normal, lovable child.
Phoebe, here are two oranges. If I wanted one, would you give it to me?” He took me to a therapy room and began assessing me.
I looked at him Indifferently, clutching a doll, as if his childish question was beneath me.
“Phoebe, if you had a friend who was jealous that you had two oranges and tried to steal them from you, and you caught her, what would you do?”
“Cut off her hands.”
My voice echoed with a coldness that didn’t match my age.
The nurse beside us was shocked by my answer, turning to Damian in disbelief. “Is she really only five?”
After observing me for a while and putting me with other kids who bullied me, they watched me like I was some kind of specimen.
Without a definitive diagnosis, Damian labeled me with severe affective and cognitive impairments.
I watched him through the glass, his voice cold as a butcher as he proclaimed, “Apply for transcranial magnetic stimulation with hypnotherapy, and if that’s ineffective, we’ll consider electroconvulsiveNôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.
therapy…” “Dr. Damian, she’s just a child, isn’t she?”
Damian drew a sharp breath. “Have you ever seen teenagers afraid of a five–year–old girl?”
As my memories became clearer, my fear intensified.
Damian’s so–called treatments were hypnosis and physical stimulation.
No wonder I had amnesia.
If Dexter handed me over to Damian, I’d likely end up just as before, forgetting my past, forgetting everything about Colin.
༤༠
“Phoebe indeed forgot a lot after the accident. It’s my fault for not cherishing her,” Dexter continued his charade of guilt. He just wanted me amnesiac, trapped by his side.
I thrashed in fear, refusing to forget again, to be trapped by Dexter’s emotional blackmail as a helpless pawn!
“Colin…”
“Colin, save me…” I struggled, crying out.
Colin, please come and save me.