Revenge After Death

I ignored Michael and turned to focus on the middle–aged man. When I laid eyes on him, my heart clenched. He seemed so, so familiar…

Who was he?

I tried my damnedest to recall who he was, but nothing came to me. When he saw me, he approached me with a smile. I was instinctively repulsed by him and wanted to get up to leave.

He looked at me appraisingly, seemingly seeing right through me. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Larson. My name’s Peter Jones, and I’m a psychiatrist.”

I was taken aback. A psychiatrist?

“I’m Wendell Carlson’s classmate from elementary school. We grew up together, and we’re the best of friends.” He seemed to be saying these things for my benefit. He was telling me that he and my father weren’t just acquaintances.

I stared at him in shock. Wendell Carlson was Stephanie Carlson’s father.

“Stephanie was sick as a child, and I was the one who was in charge of treating her,”

Peter continued with a smile. Despite being a middle–aged man, there was

something about him that made him stand out.

Michael stood beside him, looking like he was closely watching my every move. It pissed me off. Their appraising gazes made me feel like they were watching a lab rat

in a cage.

“Is it any of my business whose friend or doctor you are?” I frowned.

Peter smiled. “Sorry, I’ve overstepped my boundaries.”

Michael explained, “My mother sought Dr. Jones out and asked him to treat me.”

I sneered. “What, have you really lost your mind? If you have, you should go to an

asylum.”

Peter didn’t say anything as he watched us. He was smiling gently, but there was

something about it that made my skin crawl.

“Stephany…” Michael had learned his lesson. He didn’t call me “Stephie” today. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you. I mistook you for Stephanie Carlson because of my own issues.”

I wasn’t used to him suddenly being such a gentleman. I huffed and looked away; I didn’t know what he was trying to do.

“I’m really sorry,” Michael apologized again before leaving with Peter.

He’d acted so out of character that I couldn’t help feeling that something was wrong. My sixth sense told me that something was amiss.

After they turned the corner, I followed them secretly. Then, I heard Michael ask

Peter, “Did you manage to catch anything?”

“Your guess might be correct,” Peter answered.

“Then… what should I do?”

“Stephanie had a strong self–consciousness. After being aggravated, she would

choose to seal certain memories that she didn’t want to recall as a way of protecting

herself. With some mental cues, we can…”

I couldn’t hear the rest of the sentence. I frowned. I knew that Peter wasn’t up to

anything good.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” Ewan suddenly said from behind me. “The car’s here.”

He made me jump. I turned to look at him. “Did you see the guy with Michael Ford?

His name is Peter Jones, and he says that he’s a psychiatrist.”

He nodded calmly. “I know him. He’s the best psychiatrist in Huma, and he’s considered the voice of authority in the industry. Mr. Lincoln Senior had once hired

him to treat Mr. Lincoln.”

“It didn’t work?” I subconsciously asked.

“He said that Mr. Lincoln is fine,” Ewan said. “Lguess that’s what all voices of authority are capable of.”

I took a deep breath, “Yeah. What sort of authority is he?”

“He said that Mr. Lincoln’s fine and that Ms. Stephanie Carlson, who was fine, was

sick. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I heard that he first started working in the asylum that

Mr. Lincoln was in.” Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

I glanced at him, feeling like he was insinuating something. He seemed to be

deliberately saying these things to me.

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“He said that Mr. Lincoln’s fine and that Ms. Stephanie Carlson, who was fine, was sick. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I heard that he first started working in the asylum that

Mr. Lincoln was in.”

I glanced at him, feeling like he was insinuating something. He seemed to be deliberately saying these things to me.