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.

move around, I held his hand and headed to Grandma Rosie’s

some water, Grandma Rosie,” Michael said, attending

frowned, feeling somewhat annoyed.

remembered Michael as a spoiled rich brat, accustomed to having everything handed to him on a silver

here he was, being attentive in

my grandmother. I can take care of her myself. You can go now,” I said, firmly as I walked over and

gaze and remained silent.

leaned against the head of the bed and gazed at Michael

dearly

Mike like that? He’s a nice, kind–hearted

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

momentarily startled, frowning as I stared at Michael.

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

he up to?

was as if he had encountered someone even more skilled

called my name softly.

Rosie, “Grandma Rosie, this is my husband, Steven Lincoln.

Rosie glanced at Steven, looking somewhat displeased.

come visit me. Instead, Mike was the one who has been

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

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

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

grief of my parents‘ death. My restless and