Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

I remember asking Dexter once, why? By what right?

He sneered, “By right of you eating my food, drinking my drinks, and living under my roof! By right of the favors my family has done for you that you’ll never repay in a lifetime! It’s just a spot for an exchange program, so what right do you have to raise your voice at me?”

That day. I collapsed on the ground like a stray dog abandoned by its owner.

Hank, with Melody’s sister, Serena–the woman who had stolen my spot–wrapped in his arms. came up to me and trampled on me with the vilest words in the world.

She taunted, “Phoebe, you really are pathetic. My sister is the one who deserves Dexter. What are you but a lowly stain, fit for nothing?”

Hank kicked me, muttering. “My cousin said the biggest regret of his life was letting Hailey take you in.”

I sat there, my body slowly growing numb. Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Phoebe, if you dare tell my cousin about it, I’ll make your life hell,” Hank threatened, a delight in his voice as he did so in secret.

“Ah come on, even if she does, Dexter won’t believe her. Who’d trust such a woman?” Serena strutted away, her arm sporting a designer bag Dexter had bought for Melody, easily worth tens of thousands with a single swipe of his card.

Dexter always said I owed him and the Fitzgerald family, but the sum of my living and education expenses over the years with the Fitzgeralds didn’t come close to that–a few thousand bucks at most. I had a scholarship, which covered my tuition in college and sustained my basic needs.

I’d rather work night shifts at a 24–hour convenience store than spend another dime of the Fitzgerald family’s money.

What I owed Dexter was the

funeral expenses for my parents and the penalty he paid off for my family’s breached contract; I covered the rest, including the compensation for the workers with the insurance money from my parents‘ death and by selling our house.

I knew I owed Dexter a lot of money, but even that wasn’t close to what he spent on Melody and her friends and family over the years.

I’ll never forget my junior year in college, when I fell ill with encephalitis and collapsed with a high fever on the school’s field.

That day, with a raging fever, Dexter forced me to take a physical test for Melody’s sister Serena. I told him I was sick, and in pain, but he dismissed it.

“Phoebe, if you’re not dead, then go.”

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I couldn’t argue, his words echoing in my mind, “Phoebe, you owe me.”

So, I owed him, and I had to pay.

I dragged myself out of bed, shaky and weak, and made it to the field. I collapsed halfway through the 800 meters, skinning my arm and forehead, the pain searing.

The doctor thought I was insane–running a physical test with a forty–degree fever, like I had a death wish.

It was because of this incident that Serena got caught cheating on her test and lost her spot in the exchange program.

That day at the hospital, Dexter barged into my room, fury in his eyes, nearly dragging me out of bed. “Phoebe, ver knew you were so cunning. Just because Serena took the exchange spot, you’d go this far to harm her?”

He accused me of deceit and of being calculating, yet not a word about my fever or encephalitis.

That bout of encephalitis nearly cost me my life. eded money for treatment, or I might die, but my allowance was not enough to cover the exorbitant medical bills.

I begged Dexter to lend me money to see the doctor.

Once I was well, I’d work and pay him back.

But Dexter just looked at me with disgust. “Even now, you’re still pretending, Phoebe. What a waste it is for you not to be an actress.”

I fell to the ground, my headache unbearable.

“You want money? Show me what you’d do for it,” Dexter sneered, grabbing my hair. “What did you give Hank in exchange for money before? Didn’t I tell you to come to me if you were short? How could you stoop so low?”

I stared blankly at Dexter, trying to explain, “ver asked him for money…”

“You’re still lying. Your mouth’s been full of lies from the start!” Dexter pushed me away and leaned against the wall, looking down on me. “If you want money, stop playing the victim. Follow me. I’m not interested in you here.”

I bowed my head, tears scalding my cheeks. I knew what he was going to do to me.

While calling me filthy, he viciously took and vented on me, over and over. That night, the fever didn’t break, and I passed out in a hotel bathroom, nose bleeding.

A cleaning lady found me the next day and took me to the hospital.

A little later, and I might not have made it.

And Dexter? He never gave me the money.

Desperate, I called Stella. She rushed from the hospital, begging her estranged father–who’d

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never cared for her–for five thousand bucks..

For that measly sum, Stella and I traded our dignity. We sat in the hospital room, crying and laughing, without saying much more.

I knew she was all I had left.

On the day I was discharged, I ran into Dexter at the hospital. He looked weary, pacing in and out of the wards.

ΤΗ