Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Subconsciously, my hand shot out to grab her arm, yanking her toward me. “Walk on the inside.”

Stella froze in place, her eyes wide as if she saw Phoebe’s ghost in my gestures.

“Who are you, exactly?” she murmured after a long pause, her bewilderment evident.

I merely smiled. “She never left; she’s always been here.”

Tears rimmed Stella’s eyes as she quickly looked away and strode toward the apartment complex.

Hank was hiding inside.

“So, what’s your plan after graduation? Hospital work or…” I asked casually, wondering if she’d stick to the life path we’d once envisioned.

We’d set our goals together: I’d talked about studying abroad for a while, and she wanted to pursue her Ph.D. after getting her Master’s, maybe even study overseas, too. Then we’d both return home triumphant – she’d be a life–saving doctor, and I’d be someone’s dedicated

secretary.

We’d make money happily, spend it together, travel, buy a home, and dream of the future.

“I minored in forensic science. I’ll be a medical examiner when I graduate,” she said, her voice serious, her eyes locked on mine.

I was stunned, shocked into silence. “Why? I thought we agreed you’d be a doctor.”

Why change her dream?

She let out a bitter laugh. “She left me behind. Why should I keep promises? I’m going to be a forensic pathologist. I’ll catch that murderer.1 won’t let any criminal get away.”

I hung my head, silent for a long while. “Stella, that’s dangerous.”

I just wanted her to be safe, to find someone who loved her, to spend the rest of her life v

with.

“This is my business; it has nothing to do with you,” she snorted, marching towards Hank’s place. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

By the time we arrived, Dexter was already there.

He stepped out of his car with a stormy expression, his anger palpable as he stomped into the elevator, rode up, and kicked the door open.

Stella and I hid outside, watching Dexter give Hank a hard time.

Hank, probably still asleep, cussed as his door was kicked in. “Who the heck is it? Can’t a guy get some sleep?”

16:141

The door swung open, and Dexter marched in, his face stone–cold.

Hank, shirtless in bed, went pale with fear.

Clutching his blanket, he stammered, “Dexter, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” Dexter’s voice was flat as he approached the bed. surveying the room. “Seems like you’ve been sleeping pretty soundly here.”

Hank was terrified, his words stumbling out, “Dexter… It’s just that my phone broke recently. and I haven’t had a chance to replace it; l…”

Before he could finish, Dexter had grabbed him by the collar. “Care to explain the video?”

“It wasn’t… I swear, there was this girl who looked just like Phoebe; I got scared and started spouting nonsense out of fear. You can’t believe it; someone’s obviously trying to frame me. even recorded a video.”

Hank was clearly guilt–ridden, and his fear was evident.

“Hank, when you decided to hide the fact that Phoebe was begging for help in the car, I gave you a chance already. Are you sure you need me to force the truth out of you this time?” Dexter’s menace was palpable, as if he truly could kill Hank.

Hank trembled with fright. “Dexter… you went kinda crazy after Phoebe died, don’t do this. I’m your cousin; you can’t…”

A scream ripped through the air as Dexter slammed Hank’s head against the nightstand, blood instantly streaming from his nose and mouth.

Stella and I jumped, hiding behind the door, not daring to go in.

Dexter was acting like a madman.

I had to admit, I’d seen Dexter lose control when he was drunk, but only ever toward me. I had never seen him like this.

“Dexter… I’m sorry, I’ll talk, I’ll talk…” Hank sobbed, pleading for mercy.