Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

“He’s a genius.” a genius standing at the right hand of God.

Or rather, a madman.

Colin’s thoughts and obsessions are beyond the grasp of ordinary minds,

“Is that kind–hearted doctor who blew the whistle still in Sea City?” I asked, harboring a sea of doubts within.

I don’t trust Colin; sometimes, his murderous intent is too intense. I once asked him if he’d ever killed anyone. He hesitated and didn’t answer, which was basically evasion.

So, has he killed? What exactly is his connection to the orphanage serial murderer?

“The doctor is still in Sea City,” Eric nodded.

I breathed a sigh of relief. There were also witnesses from back then; it would make the investigation much smoother.

“Let’s head back,” I said, fearing Colin might spiral into madness upon waking.

Eric nodded. “Ma’am, the reason I brought you here is to help you understand him better. Mr. Caleb is a pitiful man; he needs someone to care for him and love him incessantly.”

I understood what Eric meant; he thought I could be Colin’s salvation. After all, we were now husband and wife.

But I can’t be Colin’s salvation. Colin needs love, and I can’t give him that. All I can offer is my goodwill. And all I can do is pray, pray that Colin isn’t one of the orphanage murderers.

But after visiting the mental institution today, fear has crept into me.

I’m afraid Colin really has killed. Afraid he’s indeed linked to the serial killings.

And if I do find out he’s a murderer, what then? Turn him over to the cops?

On the way back, I was poring over the old records and posts from St. Aria Psychiatric Center.

The whistleblower was a well–intentioned doctor who, for the sake of the patients, reported his name, angered the director and his colleagues, and suffered a car accident that left him with a limping leg.

On Twitter, someone asked the doctor if he regretted putting himself and his family in danger.

The doctor replied that someone had to take a stand.

Someone had to bear the brunt. There had to be light in the darkness.

“Ma’am… we’re here.”

The car had come to a stop, but I was still engrossed in the posts.

Many shared their nightmarish experiences at St. Aria, recounting how the director enjoyed tormenting the good–looking ones and how the real lunatics and perverts were the doctors themselves. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

I couldn’t bear to think of what Colin, with his good looks, might have endured there. He’s the type who wouldn’t give in even if beaten to death, always resisting.

That would provoke those bastards‘ animalistic side, pushing them to torture him even more wildly.

Just reading the posts sent shivers down my spine, adrenaline coursing through me.

I didn’t want to imagine Colin’s despair at that time, facing one desperation after another…

If it were me, I probably would have killed too, right?

“Phoebe!” The yard erupted into chaos, and the servants couldn’t restrain Colin.

He walked barefoot in the yard, frantically searching. Only when he saw me did he calm down, quickly approaching and pulling me into his embrace. “Phoebe… I’m scared.”

His voice was hoarse, and he said he was scared.

For a moment, I felt it wasn’t nightmares he feared, nor anything else, but the fear of losing me. “Foebe! Just as I was about to coax Colin back inside, Robin’s car screeched to a halt at the gate, his face stricken with panic as he jumped out. “Foebe, have you seen Stella?”

My heart skipped a beat, and I responded anxiously. “She didn’t get in touch with me today.”

“She’s missing!”