I blinked, a sense of dread washing over me. Somehow, I''d known it all along.


    Deep down, I''d harbored suspicions about Damian too.


    Têxt belongs to N?velDrama.Org.


    You can''t catch a fox without entering its den, and Colin would never have let me approach Damian


    without a n. So, he checked himself into the mental sanatorium voluntarily, hoping to dig up some


    dirt.


    "Find anything?" I whispered.


    "He''s got a knack for messing with people''s heads... a real talent," Colin murmured back. "He''s a


    master of psychology, skilled in hypnosis and the strategic use of drugs."


    I shivered, fearfully clutching Colin''s wrist. "You shouldn''t have tangled with him..."


    "But I found his Achilles'' heel." He leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear. "His daughter..."


    I nced sideways at Colin. "His daughter?"


    "While I was in the psych ward, I noticed Damian, obsessed with his research on the mentally ill,


    interrupted his consultations three times to take calls. Each time, his face lit up with a smile, and the


    caller ID showed ''Sweetie Pie.'' The voice on the other end was that of a young girl, definitely under


    thirteen, calling him ''Daddy.''"


    Colin''s voice grew cold as he continued. "Phoebe... I''ve done my homework on Damian. His eldest


    daughter was born to his ex-wife, just a couple of years before you, born with serious gic


    issues, a rare disease. There wasn''t much news about her after a few years, and rumors started to


    circte that she had passed away. His younger daughter, born to his current wife, should be


    thirteen now."


    Colin straightened up, looking down at me. "Phoebe, there''s something off about Damian."


    I looked up at Colin, it took a moment before I could speak. "Before my memory loss... did I know


    something? Did I tell you anything?"


    Colin''s gaze darted away, and he looked down. "Damian might be connected to the recent


    dismemberment cases. I suspect he''s covering his tracks."


    A knife borrowed tomit murder.


    So, Colin had been following the trail all this time.


    "When did you start suspecting Damian?" I asked, wary of Colin''s familiarity with Damian, which


    didn''t seem to be just a recent development. Damian''s own eagerness regarding Colin seemed


    equally premeditated.


    "I..." Colin''s voice faltered, and he seemed uneasy.


    He was always evading.


    Was he afraid for me to know, or just afraid I''d be hurt?


    "Colin, there are things I need to get to the bottom of. Forgetting and ignorance might not be


    blessings for me; they could lead me into greater danger." I had a right to the truth.


    Unless Colin didn''t truly trust me.


    "After your parents'' car ident... I''ve been investigating, looking into Damian, into anyone


    connected to him."


    Colin finally admitted it; he''d been onto Damian for a long time. Under the guise of wandering, he''d


    been quietly observing and investigating, piecing together clues.


    ...


    At Colin''s vi.


    After leaving the hospital, Eric arranged for a private physician to oversee our daily treatments and


    IVs.


    Once everyone had left, Colin took me down to the basement.


    The motion-sensitive lights flickered on as we descended the stairs, revealing a pristine space that


    seemed devoid of any dust.


    On both sides of the narrow hallway, crystal-clear ss cabs disyed countless butterfly


    specimens.


    I ran my numb fingers over them, transfixed.


    Specimens... so lifelike it seemed as if the butterflies might spring to life at any moment.


    "You like specimens..." I asked cautiously, recalling Finn''s words—that Colin was a madman.


    After all, my own death had involved being turned into a specimen, a deep-rooted fear from within.