"You should… eat." Dexter's hand was injured. It was obvious that someone had hurt him deliberately. Because of that, he couldn't use cutlery. He could only raise the plate to his face in order to eat.
After a moment's hesitation, he put down the plate. He hid in a corner and kept quiet.
I forced myself to put on a kind face and reached toward him. "Let me see your hands."
I had to earn his trust as much as possible.
Dexter was very cautious. After I stretched out my hand, he hesitated for a long time but still showed me his hands.
I took the chance to flip his hands up and down and inspect them closely. Indeed, they didn't have the red birthmark that my murderer had.
Clearly, he wasn't the person who actually killed me, but he was definitely related to the murderer somehow! If he wasn't an accomplice, then he was a partner.
The serial killings, my parents' deaths, and the memories I lost after the accident….