Chapter 173
In the end, I didn’t wait for Richard. It felt like my spirit had finally broken.
I believed I was depressed. I should have taken those antidepressants when I had the chance to prevent my soul from becoming this twisted.
Walking down the street amidst the rush of cars and people, I stood outside Haven of Hope Orphanage, where memories of laughter and joy once flourished.
I pondered, ‘Were those girls, charred beyond recognition, from Haven of Hope Orphanage? Who could be so cruel to them p>
I returned to my apartment to find the seeds Richard planted for me sprouted, a sign of new beginnings. Yet, my new beginning was as fragile as that tiny sprout, snuffed out at any time.
I pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills. I thought about taking them to escape into sleep, but then I decided against it. The turmoil within was mine alone to understand.
Knock. Knock. Richard was outside, ringing the doorbell and knocking frantically. “Claire, open up. Don’t scare me like this p>
I tucked the sleeping pills away and opened the door, greeting him with indifference. “I’m fine. What’s all the fuss about p>
Richard pulled me into a hug. “Did I upset you when I said I didn’t believe in your rebirth? I’ve thought it over, and I do believe you p>
I didn’t hug him back because I knew his belief was to prevent me from doing something foolish.
“Richard, how can someone be reborn after they die?” I challenged.
Richard said, “Rebirth is possible, especially if she died with regrets p>
“I was just rambling. Come in. The seeds have sprouted.” I decided not to dwell on the topic further and showed him the sprouts as if I had resolved.
The killer seems to target pregnant women after being adopted from the orphanage. What if I p>
“What are you thinking about?” Richard seemed to notice my distant gaze and tapped my head gently.
“Nothing. Do you want a drink?” I grabbed a bottle of red wine, intending to share it with Richard, but he immediately covered his head. No, Max warned me not tỏ drink with you. If you’re okayd should go p>
He left swiftly.
So, I opened the wine myself, contemplating how to get pregnant.
I rang Max’s doorbell with two wine glasses and the bottle.
He answered, fresh from a shower, wearing a robe and drying his hair with a towel.
“Not mad anymore?” Max’s tone was light, but he frowned upon seeing the wine. “What’s up p>
I smiled. “I’m looking for someone to have a drink with. Since you’ve forbidden Richard from drinking with me, you’ll have to do it p>
He stepped aside, and I walked in as the door closed.
Sitting on the couch, I couldn’t help
but notice the healthy tan of his chest visible through the slightly open robe. For some reason, I felt no attraction to him, even repulsed. After all, he was protecting a murderer.
But risking myself was the only way to prove my theory. If I got pregnant, Tracey would target me, providing the evidence everyone needed to believe Tracey was the culprit.
I poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Max, who had changed into fresh clothes. “Drink with me as an apology for protecting Tracey today p>
Max took the glass, his lips barely parting. “Claire, I’m not protecting Tracey p>
I wasn’t there to hear his explanations. I wouldn’t believe him anyway. Nor would I ask him for help in gathering evidence or for protection.