"What do you think?" Joel asked Steven, who remained still, watching Yasmin's departing figure.
Hiding behind the door, my heart raced with anxiety.
I feared Steven would doubt me for who I was. The growing unease consumed me, worrying that I might be suspected and unrecognized.
Was this how Steven had felt? When I doubted and questioned him, and even misunderstood him…
Clasping my hands tightly together nervously, I pondered how to convince Steven to believe me.
However, my memories failed me. I had forgotten too much, unable to recall Steven or anything from our time at the orphanage.
Joel was right; I wasn't smart enough, perhaps even foolish, always causing trouble for others. Nevertheless, I still had no idea of what kind of person I was in the past; Yasmin probably knew better than me.
Overwhelmed by fear, tears welled up behind the door.
"Are you listening?" Joel asked, furrowing his brows at Steven's silence. "Obviously, that Yasmin looks more like the real thing."
"Then, you might want to calm yourself down with some shit," Steven snorted coldly.
"Steven Lincoln, quit with that attitude," Joel said, a little worked up.
"If you think she's Stephanie Carlson, then go after her. You know where our usual place is too," Steven replied in a low voice before turning to leave.
Joel stubbornly held onto him. "I'm not doubting your judgment. But look at the one inside. She's nothing like the old her."
Steven chuckled. "That's exactly why she's her."
"I think you're bewitched." Joel frowned. "Love makes people blind, but turns you into an idiot."
"If she were the Stephanie Carlson we know, would she come here exposing herself voluntarily? Would she make such a big fuss, announcing her existence? Not to mention that you, an outsider, were present too," Steven said indifferently as he entered the house.
"What if she figures that I— "
Joel wanted to say something but Steven impatiently interrupted him, "From the moment she showed a strong sense of competition, she broke her disguise."
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