The person on the other end calmly replied, "Mr. Lancaster, you told me that if you ever made such a request, I was to remind you of something—the missus will be angry. If she's angry, she won't want to be with you. A dead first love is the hardest to forget, but a disabled first love will be cherished in her heart. Please reconsider."
Steven’s grim eyes stared at the slightly ajar door. He gripped his phone tightly before hanging up without another word.
I, of course, knew nothing of this as I hurried back to my room and locked the door.
I cursed under my breath, but my mind kept replaying Steven's bizarre behavior, leaving me confused and bewildered.
Did the car accident damage his brain, causing this drastic change in personality?
Or had the dream he'd had expanded somehow, and combined with the shock of the accident, given him some inkling of a second life?
But the me that Steven had loved in his past life wasn't me. Even if he did remember, I shouldn't be the one he was looking for.
I couldn't figure it out, but a sense of foreboding settled in my heart.
Steven's transformation was not good for me in any way.
I calmed myself down and remembered that Horace was probably looking for me. With Steven there earlier, I hadn't dared to mention Horace, not wanting to provoke him while we were alone. Now, I quickly dialed his number.
Horace answered almost immediately, his voice low and urgent. "Zephyra?"
"It's me," I said, biting my lip, unsure how to begin. After all... Steven had deliberately answered my phone, kissed me, and said all those awful things meant to humiliate Horace. "Horace..."
Horace's deep voice cut me off. "Where are you? Are you safe? I just talked to your colleagues and the hotel front desk. No one's seen you. Are you in Steven's room? Don't fight him head-on. Protect yourself."

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