Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

The air grew still, and I found myself frozen on the couch, my fingers tensing momentarily. “What?”

I thought I must have heard wrong.

But can memories be mistaken, too?

I remember during my senior year of high school, already overwhelmed by academic pressure, I’d fall asleep the moment I got into the car.

In my memory, Dad drove for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t recall where we were headed, only that I was in the car, lying across my mom’s lap, sleeping soundly.

“Turn the music down, Phoebe’s asleep,” my mom whispered, chastising Dad in a gentle

murmur.

“Ethan Langley and I are meeting at Prosperity Heights Bridge before heading over together.” Dad replied.

I couldn’t remember exactly what Dad said next, only that I felt a rush of excitement–someone was waiting for us.

“Is that Ethan’s car?” asked Mom.

“The orphanage has raised two prodigies; the high–ups are paying close attention. This event is a perfect chance to make some noise, get more people involved in charity, and bring greater attention to the plight of children left behind in orphanages…”

“Boom!”

The moment Dad pulled the car over, a deafening crash engulfed us.

A violent force nearly hurled me from my seat.

“Phoebe…”

The last thing I remember was Mom’s tight embrace, sheltering me in her arms. Her blood mingling with mine.

“Phoebe…” Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Survive…”

“Phoebe… Phoebe!”

After that, my memory is blank. The crash left me dazed; time seemed to stand still, and I couldn’t tell how long it had been.

All I remember is waking up to Dexter by my side, with him calling out my name over and over.

And I vaguely recall the silhouette of someone–someone who dashed into the flames,

09:35

fearlessly entering the car to save my parents.

And then, slowly, that silhouette merged with Dexter in my mind.

Could it be that my memories deceive me?

“That day was the award ceremony for the Double–Genius Welfare House, a coming–of–age celebration for the kids. I was supposed to meet Phoebe’s parents there. We saw the accident on the bridge. It was Phoebe’s parents… and the eldest Langley child, Ethan. It was a horrific crash: a dump truck going the wrong way, a semi overloaded in the rear. Ethan’s family died on the spot. A teenager ran into the fire to save Phoebe, they said.”

Hailey spoke softly, her voice breaking. “But when Phoebe woke up, she couldn’t remember who saved her. She thought it was Dexter, and I wanted to tell her the truth, but Dexter admitted to it. I was shocked, but I didn’t interfere too much with the kids‘ affairs. I never imagined… it would hurt Phoebe.”

I sat, stunned and rigid, as Hailey continued, my head pounding as if it were about to split open. It turns out memories can indeed be deceiving.

Especially under great trauma, the brain can fabricate false memories from the moments before unconsciousness.

I had always thought Dexter saved me, and I believed it without a doubt.

Because when I asked Dexter, he confirmed it.

“Dexter has always been starved of love because of his relationship with his father. He doesn’t know how to love someone; he only knows possession,” Hailey wiped away tears. “He’s fond of Phoebe, even if he doesn’t say it. I can tell. Phoebe’s mom and I were close friends, and we had arranged a marriage for our children to be formalized when they were older.

Dexter is rebellious and has his own way of doing things. If he didn’t like Phoebe, he would have rejected the arrangement long ago. But he didn’t, and that’s how I knew he cared for her. But he’s so stubborn–he clearly has feelings for her, yet he refuses to admit it…”

“Hailey, the Dexter you know and the Dexter I’ve heard about from Phoebe seem like two very different people,” I interrupted, struggling to believe that Dexter could truly love.

“Love isn’t about possession or causing pain. All Dexter has brought Phoebe is hurt,” I shook my head and spoke again. “No matter his reasons, he’s lied to Phoebe and caused her endless suffering.”