Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace (Dexter) novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113 

After going a little crazy, I actually felt relieved. The Phoebe of the past was dead and gone. 

I’m no longer Phoebe. No longer under Dexter’s thumb. 

The nightmares he gave me, the so–called favors from the past, I’ve repaid them all. 

I owed him nothing. It was he who owed me.. 

He owed me a life, the life of the child I carried inside me. 

As I was about to leave, my phone rang. 

It was Stella calling. 

“Foebe, the police have recovered Phoebe’s phone, and they’ve retrieved her last voicemail before she died.” 

Before heading to Tangle Lane, I had recorded my conversation with Melod 

It was my smartest move yet. I didn’t trust Melody, not since she accused me of pushing her down the stairs. 

Luckily, I had made that recording. 

“I’ve already notified Dexter. Do you want to come over and listen?” Stella asked. 

“Yeah, of course I’m coming. I want to see Dexter’s face when he hears it,” I said through clenched teeth, my hatred for him at its peak. 

Now I finally understood why those gentle, frail women turned into vengeful spirits after death- because hatred intensifies with death. It never fades. 

The love I once had for him, the hope I held as I died that he would save me, was now equal to the hatred I bore. 

“Too bad Melody claimed she had a stomach ache and went to the hospital. It would’ve been quite a show if she were here.” Stella said in a low voice. 

Other than me, Stella was probably the one who hated Dexter and Melody the most. 

I chuckled sarcastically. “Her? Cried wolf one too many times, who knows if it’s really a stomach ache or just an evasion.” 

But it didn’t matter anymore. Seeing Dexter’s face was entertainment enough. 

“Off to the ‘theater“,” I said, hanging up the phone and flashing a smile at Colin. 

He stiffened for a moment, then hesitantly spoke up. “Do you… still hate him?” 

He was referring to Dexter. 

Of course, I did. 

1/2 

10:50 

Chapter 113 

“Yes, I answered truthfully. 

For some reason, though, Colin seemed displeased. His hand, which had been holding mine, slowly loosened, and he turned to look out the car window with a haughty air. 

What was that about? 

I was a bit puzzled. 

But how could I not hate Dexter? 

“He’s not a good man…” After an awkward silence. Colin muttered, still gazing out the window. “He doesn’t deserve you.” 

I glanced at Colin, bewildered. He seemed to be deceiving himself, pretending I was Phoebe. “Oh.” I didn’t believe Colin recognized me; at best, he saw me as a stand–in because of my looks. 

Seeing my nonchalant response, he seemed to get angry. He turned to me, his indignant expression reminiscent of an irked hound. “I’m obviously more obedient.”