Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 311

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"Dr. Damian..." The doctor beside him was clearly uncomfortable; what was happening seemed fundamentally inhumane.

Any doctor with a shred of conscience wouldn't want to torment a patient with mental illness.

Colin was a patient, but he was also a human being.

The other doctors averted their eyes, simmering with anger but silent in their protest.

At Sea City Mental Health Sanatorium, next to the director, was Damian. And since Damian was married to the director's daughter, he was essentially the most powerful and influential person there.

No one dared to challenge him.

No one dared to question him.

Damian glanced coldly at the hesitant doctor. "This kind of experimental data is a rare opportunity.” 1 gripped Colin's hand tightly, glaring at Damian with fury.

"You're the real monster here." Damian simply looked at me, his expression unreadable.

Nearby, Dexter seemed to realize something was off with Colin. "Dr. Damian, you just need to get him back quickly.

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There's no need for—" "Dexter," Melody, with tears in her eyes, interrupted before he could finish. "Dexter, when Caleb loses it, it's terrifying. Let's not interfere; the doctors must have their reasons." Dexter frowned, glancing at me subconsciously. It was as if he was searching for a plea in my eyes. As if my asking would prompt him to keep advocating for me.

But | didn't ask.

I just held Colin's hand tighter. "Can you hold on? Shall we go home?" Colin's breathing became labored, his gaze losing focus.

He seemed like a walking corpse, numb... soulless.

Chemical restraints could imprison his spirit, paralyze his

body...

Damian's mouth curled into a smirk as he saw the drugs taking effect.

"Colin, come here," he commanded again.

His voice was tinged with excitement, as if conducting some macabre experiment.

Colin stiffened, wincing slightly, as if fighting an intense internal battle. He let go of my protective hand.

In that moment, my eyes filled with tears. | clung to him helplessly, not wanting to let the drugs take hold, knowing it was futile, that it wasn't his choice.

"Colin, push her away, and come back with me," Damian ordered once more.

Colin pushed me away and walked forward.

The others at the mental health center exhaled in relief. It seemed there was nothing unusual after all, just a patient with stronger resistance to medication than most.

Damian's smirk widened as he looked at me with a challenging

gaze. "Dexter, take care of your girl." He was warning Dexter to keep me in line.

Dexter stepped forward, trying to take my hand. "Phoebe... He should go back and continue his treatment." "Do you know what the most effective treatment for the mentally ill in mid-20th-century Europe was?" Damian turned back, deliberately provoking me.

| clenched my fists tightly.

"Lobotomies..." He pointed to his own head.

"Damian! I'l kill you!" | charged at him, overcome with a rage so raw | truly wanted to hurt him.

Dexter caught me in his arms, restraining me. "Phoebe! Calm down." | knew Damian was taunting me. He had no right to subject Colin to such a procedure, but still, | was terrified. The lengths these people would go to, the law meant nothing to them.

Then it hit me, what Colin had said before: We tried to run, but we failed.

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The "run" he spoke of, the enemy he feared, might not be human at all, but these chemicals that could control the body, the nerves, and the cells.

Like no one can fight off anesthesia, not even wild animals.

"Phoebe, he's mentally ill, and the sanatorium is where he belongs. Don't let him out to harm others," Melody sneered, looking at me as if she had won.

I must have been in shock; my breathing rapid, | shoved Dexter away.

My memory blanked out.

Just like before, when | came to, everyone was staring at me in horror.

My hands were numb with pain, shaking uncontrollably.

I had smashed the glass, letting the shards cut through my hands.

Standing there, bloodied, | called out to Colin with a trembling voice. "Colin, let's go home."

Numbly following Damian, he suddenly stopped at the scent of blood.

If protecting me was his instinct, if | hurt myself, could it bring him back to his senses? "Phoebe!" Dexter looked at me in panic, calling for Wendy to get the first aid kit.

| pushed Dexter away, reaching for the glass on the floor again.

"Colin! Come home with me."

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