Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Staring at Colin with a mix of shock and disbelief, it took me a moment to process the

bombshell he’d just dropped.

Snatching the paper from his hand, I gasped at the sight–every scribbled answer was correct. I had thought he was just jotting down nonsense.

“You… you’ve studied this before?” I asked incredulously, my voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the village idiot?

He nodded nonchalantly. “Piece of cake.”

His casual remark stung my pride. Impossible! I’ve always been at the top of my class, a teacher’s pet through and through in college. I wasn’t a genius, but I was a solid student. How could Colin be… smarter than me?

“Did you peek at the answers?” I challenged, my competitive spirit flaring as I continued to work through problems on the paper. Yet, he solved each one quickly, and every single answer was spot–on. And the whole time, he kept getting distracted, glancing over at me now and then.

To be that distracted and still come up with the answers so fast, he wasn’t just any genius. He was like something out of a saying I remembered, “Madmen to the left of God, geniuses to the right,” and he was somehow straddling both sides.

“Did you go to college?” I ventured tentatively, my curiosity piqued by the mystery surrounding Colin.

“Kingstone University…” he finally said.

1

I took a deep breath. So he had gone to college.

“Entered at fourteen, in the Genius Class, on a scholarship,” he elaborated.

I paused, the words ‘Genius Class‘ echoing familiarly in my mind, triggering a throbbing headache and a flurry of memories–two kids standing at the orphanage’s entrance, beaming with oversized red ribbons, a banner congratulating ‘our very own prodigy for the Genius Class‘ overhead.

Rubbing my temples, I strained to remember more

but my memory was stubbornly stuck.

Fourteen and at Kingstone University without any entrance exams, just a straight shot on talent alone. An undeniable genius.

“So why were you pretending to be a fool at the orphanage?” I asked, trying to maintain a composed front while my mind raced with questions.

It was clear he wasn’t foolish at all. Was it an act? A ploy to deceive, perhaps for something sinister?

13:12

“Phoebe asked me to wait for her.” Colin’s eyes dropped, his voice tinged with sadness.

I frowned.

What?

Phoebe?

Did he mean me?

“Why did you listen? The Phoebe you speak of… is that me?” I wasn’t ready to trust this man, despite his seemingly innocent demeanor.

Testing him, I pointed to myself, looking for any telltale reaction. NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

He met my gaze for a long moment before nodding emphatically.

The promise was made to Foebe?

I couldn’t read him. To squander his talents for a girl’s promise, to play the fool for years in an orphanage? He seemed almost obsessively determined, like the mythical creatures I’d read about, the ones that skirted the line between angelic and monstrous.

“Is it worth it? To waste your gift waiting for someone?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s worth it!” Colin snapped back, his tone serious. “Phoebe asked me to wait.”

I rubbed my forehead, resigned. Trying to get information out of someone potentially playing with a full deck of wild cards was no easy task.

“I’m tired. I need some sleep.” I had to conserve energy if I was going to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Without a word, Colin,mimicked my actions, following my lead to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth when I did, watched as I washed my face, and trailed after me as I exited.

He took up a spot beside me on the bed, and I couldn’t help but stiffen at the thought of sharing a room with a potential criminal.

But for now, I had to tolerate it.

I underestimated one detail, though–the allure of his eyes, framed by long lashes, a captivating beauty.

I had to admit, there’s little defense against the pull of something beautiful.

Shaking off the distraction, I let reason take over. “You, go sleep on the floor.”

Colin didn’t argue, just slid off the bed and made himself comfortable on the floor.

Lying there. I pondered why he’d suddenly become so docile, especially considering he’d nearly strangled me before.

Drifting off, sleep finally tugging at my consciousness, I murmured, “You can come up… but you can’t touch me, got it?”