Revenge After Death

Chapter 233

“Was it Simmy who gave it to you?” I asked softly, peering anxiously into Steven’s eyes.

Steven avoided my gaze and deflected, “Stephie… How’s Grandma Rosie doing?”

He was changing the subject.

I always knew that there were too many secrets surrounding Steven. I had initially drawn close to him to unravel those very mysteries. Otherwise, Eason wouldn’t have been so

fixated on him.

Yet, the deeper I delved into our connection, the more I realized that not only did Steven harbor numerous secrets, but my original host, Stephany Larson, did as well.

To compound matters, I even began to question myself.

What hidden truth lay buried within my lost memories?

Why did Michael say that I had a psychological illness before? And what kind of illness

was that?

Was it a mere coincidence that I found myself reborn into Stephany’s body?

The more I pondered, the more terrifying the things seemed to me..

I brought Steven back to his ward. The nurse scolded him severely and resealed the punctured needle of the IV.

hand and headed to Grandma

Michael

feeling

handed to him on a silver platter. He could barely take care of

was, being attentive in the

of her myself. You can go now,” I said, firmly as

gaze and remained silent.

leaned against the head of the bed

dearly

could you talk to Mike like that? He’s a

the one who found out that I was sick and sent me to the hospital in time. If it weren’t for him, I might have never been able

momentarily startled, frowning as I stared at Michael.

already ingratiated himself with Stephany’s grandmother long before this.

he

was as if he had encountered someone

Steven called my name softly.

Steven over and introduced him to Grandma Rosie, “Grandma Rosie, this is my husband, Steven Lincoln. You can

at Steven, looking somewhat

you’ve never bothered to come visit me. Instead, Mike was the one who has been taking care of me all this time.”

let alone you. It’s best that he doesn’t come and upset you,” Michael whispered, clearly trying to sow discord.

aware of my character, understanding just how much weight I placed on my family’s

or rather, the me who had

I was immersed in the grief of my parents‘ death. My restless