Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace ( Dexter ) -
Chapter 62
Chapter 62
I averted my gaze, unwilling to spare Dexter an extra glance. “I don’t need your help.”
Dexter chuckled. “I don’t know why you’re running, but if you get out now, they’ll surely take you
back.”
“Got nothing better to do?” I leaned back in the seat, my tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
Indeed, letting Dexter whisk me away was a plan.
“A bit,” he nodded.
“Get me out of this hospital,” I said firmly.
Without protest, Dexter signaled the driver to go.
I crouched down in the footwell of the car, hiding from the people outside.
Dexter slid a bit closer, conveniently blocking me from the view of any passersby.
“Pull over.” Once out of the hospital’s reach, Dexter told the driver to pull over in a safe spot.
I eyed the street through the window, wary of Dexter. “Why are you helping me?”
He looked into my eyes for a long moment. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”
“Someone from the past?” I laughed, feeling a wave of nausea.
How sickening, this show of sentiment – who’s buying it?
“Here’s my card. If you run into any trouble, give me a call,” Dexter offered me his business card.
I took the card, stepping out of the car. As his car drove away, I ripped the card to shreds and dumped it in a trash can.
“Dexter, Melody, and that murderer owe me. I’ll make sure I get repaid.”
I slipped out of the alley, tying my hair up and tucking it under a hat, keeping my head down as I walked away.
After a few blocks, I borrowed a phone at a coffee shop and called Stella. I couldn’t just go to Stella; it was too risky. I needed her to come to me.
“Hello?” On the other end was Stella’s familiar voice, hoarse from crying daily. “Who’s this?” Tears welled up in my eyes and I shook as I leaned on the table. “If you want to know how your best friend Phoebe died, don’t tell anyone and come alone to the coffee shop near Mansion Thirteen.”
Stella’s voice became edged with caution. “Who are you?”
I clamped my mouth shut, fighting back sobs, and hung up.
Chapter 62
After returning the phone to the barista, I wept at the table for a long while.
It wasn’t long before Stella arrived. She lived close by, which is why I had chosen this café – it was our secret base, where I’d come whenever I felt down.
She arrived in a hurry, still in her slippers, scanning the room for the person who had called her. “Over here.” I raised my hand to signal her.
She approached me quickly, her eyes full of suspicion. “You…”
She stared into my eyes, as if she was trying to replace Phoebe’s resemblance in me.
“You said you know how my best friend… died?” she whispered, her eyes reddening.
I nodded, glancing around. “If we’re both still single by thirty, we’ll drop everything, travel. abroad for half a year. At forty, if we haven’t found the one, we’ll quit the dating game, buy a cozy house in the South, and grow old together. Maybe adopt a child, if we can…
Stella’s gaze shifted from surprise to shock, her hand flew to her mouth, and she trembled. “Who… who are you?”
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