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.

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

water, Grandma Rosie,” Michael said,

feeling

handed to him on a silver platter. He

was, being attentive in the ward.

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

his gaze

was awake, leaned against the head of the bed and

dearly

talk to Mike like that? He’s a nice, kind–hearted man.

has he been taking care of me during your absence, but he was also 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 to see you again…”

startled, frowning as I stared

ingratiated himself with Stephany’s grandmother long before this.

was he up to?

the doorway, Steven scrutinized Michael with cold eyes. It was as if he had encountered

called my name

Rosie, this is my

glanced at Steven,

you’ve never bothered to come visit me. Instead, Mike

Steve suffers from an illness. He probably can’t even take care of himself, let alone you. It’s best that he doesn’t come and upset you,” Michael

well aware of my character, understanding just how much weight I

person he knew was the me that he had “killed“, or rather, the me who had lost an important memory after the car

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