Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

I’m the one with the insatiable craving for mango tapioca pudding, but I’m cursed with an allergy to mangoes. Every time I snuck off to indulge, Colin was quick to cover for me, claiming he was the fan of the sweet treat. Then he only let me have a taste before he scarfed down the rest.

He said he loved mango tapioca pudding. But in truth, it was Phoebe who adored it. He was just ‘forced‘ to love it, that’s all.

“Just a little bite,” Colin whispered, coaxing me away.

Dexter stood there, rigid, trying to find the words. “Phoebe…”

“I thought I made it clear to you, ‘Phoebe‘ is allergic to mangoes.”

Ignorance was forgivable once, but to still forget? Love seems to falter in the details.

“Phoebe, it’s not like that. I just thought… your body now is Foebe’s…” Dexter tried to clarify that Foebe wasn’t allergic to mangoes. But deep down, he was still doubting my identity as ‘Phoebe‘.

Yet he was obsessed and stubborn about turning ‘Foebe‘ into Phoebe.

Treating me like his puppet, his perfect substitute.

“Dexter, you’re just as selfish as ever. You don’t love anyone; you only love yourself,” I said with biting sarcasm, gripping Colin’s hand tighter. “Didn’t anyone tell you love can fade? Especially when it’s built on your lies.”

He went to such lengths to deceive, yet he couldn’t cherish what he had won.

Dexter’s hands fell limply by his sides, wanting to say he loved Phoebe. But his throat felt too raw to speak.

In his quest to make Phoebe love him, to become the lover in her heart, he had tried so

hard.

But in the end, he had only moved himself.

“If

you don’t want Melody to die, let us go,” I spoke up again, my grip on Colin’s hand firm.、

I’m not letting go this time. I owe Colin too much.

Maybe because I was in front of him, Colin’s fierceness softened, his gaze on me tender.

“Phoebe, he’s bad.” He started to sulk. “He always tries to take you away.”

I squeezed his hand a little tighter.

Dexter’s eyes darkened; he had no intention of letting us leave.

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I knew he was stalling; Henry’s men must be on their way,

“Dexter, save me.” The person threatening Melody slashed a knife across her neck, and she cried out for Dexter.

I locked eyes with Dexter; he was gambling.

I snatched the knife from the bodyguard and pressed it to my own throat.

What if ‘Phoebe‘ dies?

“Phoebe…” Colin panicked, his eyes wild with fear.

Dexter was visibly shaken. “Phoebe…”

“Let us go,” I demanded, my gaze steely.

Dexter relented, stepping away from the door, directing his guards to do the same.

I took Colin’s hand again, leading him away. “Colin, let’s go home.”

I’ll take you, and we’ll escape.

Colin watched my back, the way I held his hand, and smiled.

“Phoebe, we’re going home.”

“Phoebe, he can’t protect you,” Dexter called out from the doorway. “The loss of memory isn’t a choice we can make, but you can. Memories you desperately want to forget get locked away; you don’t love him; you want to forget him!”

My steps faltered, but I didn’t look back.

Colin’s eyes were filled with panic; he was afraid.

What memories were so painful that I wanted to erase them, forget Colin, forget everything about that orphanage?

“Phoebe, don’t listen to him.” Colin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, pleading with me not to abandon him.

“Whatever memories I’ve lost, right now, I just want to go home with you,” I said, tightening my hold on his hand, eager to lead him away.

But fate intervened.

Henry’s car pulled up outside the Fitzgerald family mansion, and a group of people disembarked.