Reborn in the Enemy's Embrace

"I just heard them say there’s a male victim now," I told Dexter.

This meant the serial killer was still out there. And he wasn’t just stopping at women. He had plans to continue with male victims.

It seemed linked to that orphanage. This was a direct challenge to the police, who were struggling to catch him.

"Who is he, and why haven’t the police found any clues so far?" My voice quivered.

Certainly, that person had to be suspecting me.

Dexter held an umbrella for me, his body tense.

I nervously looked at Dexter as raindrops dripped down my hair. "You know, right? You know who he is, don’t you?"

"We can’t let him keep killing people." I clutched Dexter’s clothes tightly.

He knew who the murderer was, so why wouldn’t he say anything?

"They... deserve to die," Dexter’s voice was hoarse, his body slightly trembling.

I looked up at Dexter.

They deserved to die? Was he referring to the victims?

"What about Sophia? What did she do wrong?" I pushed Dexter away and turned to run outside.

"Sophia..." Dexter nervously called my name.

I didn’t stop but kept running in the rain toward the crime scene.

Who was the victim this time?

As I rushed to the South Bay docks, the relentless rain made me drenched. The biting cold caused me to shiver uncontrollably, and my face turned a ghostly white.

Standing at the roadside, I joined the onlookers to observe the scene.

"The deceased is a male. He was also an orphan from that orphanage. After the fire years ago, the government relocated the children from the orphanage. Most found adoptive families, but it seems... the murderer still has a connection to the orphanage..."

"Investigate everyone from the orphanage! Bring them all in for questioning!" Zion was furious.

Indeed, in recent years, this was the biggest serial murder case in Huma to remain unsolved. Until now, the police had no leads, no clues, and hadn’t caught the killer. There wasn’t even a trace left behind.

"The murderer is too vigilant. He left no hair, no nails, not even fingerprints. How does he manage that?" a young officer asked in terror.

"It’s as if there’s no murderer... just like those online rumors. It’s as if everything was done by a vengeful ghost."

Zion’s face turned grim. "Cut the crap! There are no ghosts in this world."

I stood frozen in place, watching the body being carried away by the police.

If the murderer was indeed human, how could they not leave any evidence?

Violette said she went to my house, but there were no signs of anyone living there.

But clearly, I saw that person in that house...

Zion was an atheist. He didn’t believe in ghosts and gods, but I... I was someone who had died before.

I knew even if one became a ghost, it was impossible to commit murder because one couldn’t physically touch anything.

The dead were more like souls trapped in a four-dimensional world. They were unable to interact with the three-dimensional world.

"Sophia, who are you, really?" Violette was there too. Holding an umbrella, she scrutinized me. "What do you really want?"

I breathed heavily as I looked at Violette. "Why won’t you believe me..."

She furrowed her brows and looked at me, warning me, "Don’t give me a reason to catch you."

Flashes of memories that didn’t belong to me flickered in my mind.

It was Sofia... and that murderer.

"I can help you get rid of the people you want to eliminate, but you have to listen to me and marry Dexter."

I crouched on the ground with a sudden headache, looking at the ground with a terrified expression.

Sofia... and that murderer were indeed connected.

"How did she come here? This woman is definitely suspicious. Should we bring her in for questioning?" Violette asked Zion.

Zion’s face was grim as he looked at me. "Ms. Miller, you shouldn’t be here."

I stayed quiet. After the police cleared the scene, I got up to find Dexter.

I wondered if he had followed me here.

Frantically, I searched for Dexter. When I finally spotted him across the street, still standing in the rain, relief flooded through me.

He was still here.

"Dexter..." I wanted to run to him, but the road was too crowded with cars.

"Sophia, don’t move," he called out. Rushing over, he draped his jacket over my shoulders protectively.

"Should we go home?" His gentle voice calmed my nerves.

I nodded, taking one last look at the crime scene.

"That madman won’t cease his onslaught," I murmured.

The murderer would continue his spree until he felt satisfied.

"I’m looking for him too," Dexter said.

I looked at him. "Why won’t you say his name?"

Dexter shook his head. "Because I’m not sure either."

I frowned, feeling unsure if I could trust Dexter.

Back at the old Black residence, I took a hot shower and then curled up in bed with a warm drink.

Dexter came out of the bathroom in a bathrobe and squatted beside me. "Feeling better?"

I nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. "Can I ask you a question?"

Dexter nodded.

"Why did you say those people who died deserved to die?"

I wanted to know what those people had done.

Dexter lowered his gaze, clenching his hands into fists.

Despite bearing scars from past burns, his fingers were exceptionally attractive.

If he had never been injured, he would have been God’s perfect masterpiece.

"They started the fire," he said. Recalling those painful memories, he trembled.

I held Dexter’s hand and instinctively pulled him into a hug. "It’s okay... It’s all in the past now."

I took out my phone and messaged Zion, "Dexter mentioned that the deaths are linked to the orphanage fire."

Shortly after, Zion replied, "You don’t need to worry about it."

I sighed heavily and leaned back on the bed.

It dawned on me that Sofia was unreliable.

Violette must have noticed something off about Sofia, or else she wouldn’t have suddenly become so cold and distrustful toward me.

However, I wondered what she had discovered.

"Sophia, promise me... Don’t get involved in this matter anymore, okay?" Dexter said anxiously, hoping I wouldn’t get dragged into it again.

"Mr. Black, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black Senior is back." The butler, knocked on the door.

Ignatius had returned from his trip, but now he was bedridden and would require constant care.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I ruffled Dexter’s hair. "Let’s go downstairs and see Grandpa."

The troubles of the Black family were enough to weigh heavily on anyone’s mind.

With Ignatius paralyzed and unable to speak or make decisions, it seemed likely that the other Blacks would take advantage of him.