Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace (Dexter) novel Chapter 159

Chapter 159 

Startled, I glanced at Robin before gripping Colin’s hand with an intensity that betrayed my 

excitement. 

Had they caught the murderer? 

If they’d nabbed one, the rest were sure to follow. It was like pulling a thread to unravel the 

whole sweater. 

Colin looked up and caught my eye as I clutched his hand. 

I took a deep breath, waiting for Robin to get off the phone. 

When Robin ended the call, he turned to us, “Cory’s got someone. No time to drop you guys off, let’s head over together.” 

Robin floored the gas pedal and we sped toward the hospital. 

My heart raced the entire drive, anticipation clawing at me. Who was the murderer? 

Who had ended my life? I was dying to find out. 

Colin was silent the whole trip, probably aware he’d messed up. He kept his gaze low as if bracing for my scolding. 

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and I couldn’t wait. I bolted out of the car and ran ahead after Robin. 

Colin trailed behind us. After a few steps, he stopped, gazing indifferently toward a dark corner near the entrance. 

It was pitch black and impossible to see anything. 

I paused and looked back at Colin, “Colin?” 

He looked back and came to me. 

“Hurry up, I urged, eager to confront the murderer, and turned back to run. 

When I glanced over my shoulder, I vaguely caught Colin gesturing toward the corner and slashing his hand across his neck in a threatening motion. 

When I looked back again, he had resumed his innocent, angelic facade. 

I remembered thinking, just before my death, that Colin’s face was the very image of a 

angel. 

Now, familiar with his features, I realized how much he hid beneath that mask of purity. 

In the hospital room, Cory and the others had pinned someone to the floor. 

Melody, now conscious, was curled up in the corner, her whole body trembling and her face pale as a ghost. 

The shock that came one after another must have been overwhelming for a woman like Melody, who was so coddled by Dexter. 

I figured she’d have trouble sleeping for a long time, constantly fearing becoming the murderer’s next victim. This was her comeuppance. 

Colin was right that day: death wasn’t the worst punishment. Living on was far more torturous. 

Every second spent in guilt, loneliness, and fear–that was the cruelest punishment. 

“Robin, this kid… he’s a minor,” Cory fretted as he handed over the murder weapon–a syringe filled with what had to be a lethal substance. 

“Somebody paid me… to put this stuff in her IV. I was just doing a 

yelled at Robin. “Don’t kill me.” 

I 

Paid job!” the teenager 

Robin’s face darkened as he grabbed the boy by his collar, “This is murder! Where are your parents?” 

Tall and dressed in a lab coat, the boy looked about fifteen or sixteen. 

“Let me go!” He struggled, trying to escape. 

“Take him away!” Robin was furious. If this kid wasn’t the murderer, then the real murderer goaded him. 

“Check his guardian and his school,” Robin muttered, irritated.