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Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 451
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Chapter 451 It must be the organization behind the scenes, keeping a close eye on Foebe Larson's upbringing without her knowing.

Foebe herself... wasn't as harmless as she appeared to be.

She masqueraded as ordinary and timid, but behind the scenes... she was a high-IQ mastermind planning the downfall of her bullies, then hiding in the shadows, smirking with disdain.

This included her parents being arrested for human trafficking, the Larson family's golden boy developing brain damage from a severe fever, and Foebe's grandmother suffering more than just poverty and having an idiot grandson and a son in jail...

Phoebe used every means at her disposal to get revenge, using the people her enemies cherished most as her weapons.

She knew exactly how to grasp someone's deepest fears and insecurities.

She knew how to make their lives a living hell, striking at their very hearts.

Take Coraline Larson, for example...

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Although Coraline had stolen Foebe's so-called boyfriend, Phoebe didn't seem to have had any real feelings for anyone. It was more like she intentionally handed that so-called boyfriend to Coraline, plotting to rid herself of the man and continue her facade.

Indeed... we all underestimated 'Foebe Larson'.

She was also one of the experiments.

Staring at the lab data on the ground, I couldn't snap out of it for a long time.

If Foebe was really that smart, how did she end up dead? She was chosen by the Langley family as the prcandidate for their lineage, taken into the Langley household, only to die from a heart attack induced by drug overdose? And then... I coincidentally reincarnated in her body.

Was all this really just a coincidence? And Foebe's diary.

Returning to the Larson household, could I really have stumbled upon Foebe's diary in the storage that quickly... by coincidence? Thinking back, it seems more like it was all arranged by Foebe in advance.

And Melody Burton, claiming I'm not Phoebe Caldwell, but Foebe Larson...

Ha... At this point, even I'm starting to doubt.

Who am I, what kind of 'thing' am I? What sort of existence do I hold? What kind of experiment am I? The people behind Gene-Forge Collective, using us for their experiments, are they really just testing gics? Compared to Colin and Matthew Langley, who are considered perfected experimental data and put into 'production' as geniuses, I should have no experimental value left. Yet, it seems the people behind the scenes are still observing us.

This can only mean that there are more terrifying secrets within me, Foebe, and possibly other clone subjects.

At Colin's place.

Following Colin home, Coly was already at the door to greet us.

He looked excited, wagging his tail energetically.

In my memories, my Howler was just like this, fierce towards everyone else but showing a gentle and obedient side toand Colin.

"Did you eat well?" I crouched down, patting his head, almost subconsciously raising my right hand.

This was a gesture I often made when training Howler.

Howler would sit obediently, tongue out, looking at me, waiting for my next command.

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As soon as my hand went up, Coly obediently sat down, just like Howler, waiting for my next instruction.

I was momentarily taken aback, then stretched out my arms towards the food bowl in the far end of the garden. "Bring it here."

Coly, as if understanding human nature, dashed over and grabbed his little bowl, trotting back to me. Colin sat on the garden swing, watchinginteract with Coly.

After rewarding him with a head rub, I hugged him. "Such a good boy..." Just as obedient as Howler.

"Bark bark!" Suddenly, Coly started barking furiously towards the m driveway

I turned around, my gaze landing on the black sedan parked outside, and е stood up with a wary frown. The visitor... was Damian.

"Looks like it's tto move," Colin said solemnly.

This place... wasn't safe anymore.

Anyone could show up.

Damian stepped out of the car, dressed in a black trench coat holding a black umbrella. "Foebe Larson... no, should I call you Phoebe Caldwell now?"