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.

bed and move around, I held his hand and headed to Grandma Rosie’s ward, only to discover Michael had been

Michael said, attending

frowned, feeling

to him on a silver platter. He could barely take

here he was, being attentive

myself. You can go now,” I said, firmly as I walked over and snatched the glass of water from Michael’s

gaze

head of the

dearly

Mike like

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

as I stared at Michael.

had already ingratiated himself with Stephany’s grandmother long

he up

scrutinized Michael with cold eyes. It was as if he

my name softly.

Steven over and introduced him to Grandma Rosie, “Grandma Rosie, this

glanced at Steven, looking somewhat displeased.

for so long, yet you’ve never bothered to come visit me. Instead, Mike was the one

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

of my character, understanding just how much

the me who had lost an important memory after the car accident when I was 18.

immersed in the grief of my parents‘ death. My restless and depressive