“Phoebe…” Dexter’s tone held an urgency as he reached for my hand, signaling for us to leave the
chaos behind. “Come with me, now. The cops have been called, and I’ll figure out a way to handle this.”
The crowd was buzzing with whispers and gasps when Melody screamed, intentionally magnifying …
drama, her eyes wide with feigned horror as she turned to Dexter. “Dexter, what happened… who’s the
murderer?”
Dexter’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “No one’s dead.”
“Dexter… what’s going on? Could it be Foebe…” Melody threw a pointed nce my way; her eyes
fixated on the blood staining my clothes. “Foebe, you went too far. This could be attempted murder, and
that means prison time.”
Dexter’s face darkened, his grip on my wrist unyielding. “Just follow me. I’ll get you bailed out.”
“Bunch of lunatics,” Bran scoffed as he shouldered past Dexter and freed me from his grasp. “Even a
high schooler knows self–defense isn’t a crime.”
“But she was so brutal; it’s excessive force,” Melody whined, covering her mouth in mock shock.
“Everyone saw it.”
“Everyone saw you making a scene for nothing,” Bran snapped at her, his words sharp. “You look like
the definition of excessive.”
He yanked open the car door and, with no regard for decorum, shoved me inside. “Look! Damaging
property, grabbing people, pulling a knife, attempting murder, and then getting stabbed himself when
the knife was turned on him. She stopped a crime in progress. No harm, no foul.”
Soon enough, the police and the EMTs arrived.
I figured the Langley family were probably hoping their son–inw would just drop dead.
That way, I’d definitely be in hot water for excessive self–defense.
But, unfortunately for them…
He was just bleeding enough to scare the hell out of everyone; no real danger to his life.
The medics and nurses examined his wounds, whistling softly in surprise. “Ten stabs… every single
one avoiding vital organs, and none too deep. Looks like he’ll just have minor injuries.”
The son–inw in question, as white as a ghost and trembling like a leaf, was loaded onto a stretcher.
Whether the wounds were fatal or not, I wasn’t sure, but the scare might have nearly killed him.
*Pretty impressive…” A familiar voice came from outside the car.
Leaning against the vehicle with a teasing grin was Finn. He must have been part of the police
response team. “Foebe… How did you manage to make each strike so clean and calcted, avoiding
the vitals like that?”
Finn eyed me suspiciously, tapping his gloved fingers against the car door, a silent interrogation.
“L.. I don’t know,” I admitted, my mind a total nk from the recent events.
“Years ago, there was a case. A boy at an orphanage got stabbed, none of the wounds deep, none
fatal. He woke up scared out of his mind, though… Guess who the stabber was?” Finn’s gaze was
probing.
I avoided his piercing eyes. “I have no idea.”Têxt belongs to N?velDrama.Org.
“The attacker was named Phoebe Caldwell,” Finn said in a low, serious tone.
I froze, then reluctantly met Finn’s gaze.
Me? I didn’t remember a thing.
“Miss Foebe, pleasee with us,” Finn said, still in that deep,manding voice, gesturing for me to
step out of the car.
“She was defending herself! On what grounds?” Bran started to protest but was held back by Eric.
“Regardless of the situation, she’s entitled to cooperate with the police investigation,” Finn stated
coldly, his warning gaze fixed on Bran. My legs felt weak as I stepped out of the car.
Finn pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and, with a hint of a smile, gently wiped the blood
from my cheek.
I flinched, the sting sharp from where the car ss had cut me.
He smiled softly, motioning toward the police cruiser.
“She can’t get away with this; she’s a murderer!” The aunt and her daughter continued their wailing.
Finn looked at them coldly. “Your husband isn’t dead, and you can’t be a murderer without a body, can
you?”