Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Eric steered his sleek sedan through the bustling downtown streets until he pulled up in front of a villa nestled in the heart of the city’s most affluent neighborhood.

The houses here were known for their staggering price tags. I remember Dad had once mentioned that this area was developed by the Langley Group–a gated community so exclusive that our family couldn’t afford a mailbox here, even if we scrimped and saved for another twenty years.

Could Colin really afford a place like this? Ever since he was fourteen and got into the Genius Class with all those bonuses, scholarships, and part–time jobs… it still didn’t seem likely. Especially not since the Langley family’s fortune seemed out of reach after his father Ethan’s passing.

Even the Langley Group was a recent responsibility thrust upon him, and he was hardly wielding real power yet, constantly being undermined and forced into a defensive stance.

“How on earth did he buy a house here?” I asked Eric, my voice laced with astonishment. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

Eric took a lengthy pause before he sidestepped my question with a vague admiration. “Mr. Caleb is quite remarkable; he’s a genius.”

We parked the car in the driveway of the lakeside villa. I was blown away by the opulence that surrounded us–truly, this was Sea City’s crown jewel of real estate.

This house of Colin’s. It couldn’t possibly be bought with his own money, could it?

Stepping into the garden, I was struck dumb. It was a floral paradise, bursting with blooms that stirred memories within me–bellflowers, roses, and the walls were draped with climbing roses. “Phoebe, we’ll have our own home…”

“Phoebe… I’ll hide you away, so no one can ever hurt you again…”

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness overcame me, along with that familiar throbbing headache, signaling a slow return of my memories.

And every fragment I recalled was intertwined with Colin.

“Colin…” Rushing into the living room, I searched for him.

His bedroom door was shut tight, curtains drawn, not a sliver of light escaping from within.

“Colin! Open the door.”

Panic was setting in; the thought of him hurting himself again was too much to bear.

“Mr. Caleb’s condition is quite unstable; I’ll have someone break down the door,” Eric said, his concern evident.

“Colin, I need to talk to you,” I coaxed gently, fearing the worst.

“Whether you’re Phoebe or not…” Eric’s voice dropped, hoarse and grave. “Please, save him.”

He said ‘save‘, a plea laden with urgency, as if Colin were on the brink of death.

“Colin…” I pounded on the door with force.

“Don’t come in, don’t look at me,” his voice came through, desperate, not wanting me to see him in a state of disarray.

This time, I didn’t run. I embraced my identity. “Colin, I remember our first meeting at the orphanage.”

The room fell silent after my words, and shortly after, the door swung open. Colin stood there, eyes wide with alarm, his hands covered in blood as they trembled to cup my face. “Phoebe, do you remember everything?”

He seemed fearful.

Was he hoping I’d remember everything or afraid of it?

“Colin… I only remember meeting you at the orphanage as children, and something about waiting for you during the college entrance exams… What exactly is our relationship?” My eyes welled up as I questioned him.

Colin’s eyes mirrored my own. “You remember me…”

Although it was just a fleeting moment from the past.

“Nothing else matters, as long as you remember me…” His voice was charged with emotion as he pulled me into a tight embrace, his fingers still dripping blood.

The scent of iron filled my nostrils, and my heart raced with inexplicable anxiety.

“Phoebe… the bad people are almost gone very soon,” Colin whispered.

I clutched at his shirt. “Colin, please don’t make a mistake. Tell me you have nothing to do with the serial killings.”

Don’t be a murderer.

Colin shook his head. “I swear, I will always be with you.”

I took Colin’s hand and led him back to his room to tend to his wounds.

He reverted to a docile manner, sitting obediently before me.

“It’s like I can’t even take my eyes off of you for a moment,” I chided softly.

“Phoebe… please don’t leave my sight,” he begged in a pitiful whisper.

And there it was, the guilt trip.

I sighed, resigned to pacify him for the moment. “Alright.”

“Phoebe… I don’t blame you,” he suddenly said, forgiving me.

10-03

“You forgot me, but I don’t blame you,” he repeated.

Tears I couldn’t control welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words settled in my heart.