Chapter 6

It's an isolated spot, all right. They thread through a network of back streets into a remote place. As the driving car reaches the area on the dirt road where the trees closed in around them, Lewis stops in front of a building and past the big gate, which shuts behind him with a dull thud.

It appears to be an abandoned medical facility, maybe an asylum or a hospital. Christa pays the taxi driver and alights from the vehicle, hitches up her dress, and sprints down the road after her husband.

Christa can see Lewis parks his Mercedes in the driveway through the gate, along with three other SUVs. She wonders what exactly the place does; however, she can't just budge in and have a good look even though the entrance is not guarded.

Christa is hovering in the doorway, resplendent in royal blue velvet for a while. She's not going to stop for that she'll find a way to get in.

There is movement behind the woods, and Christa spins around to see what it is; her improved hearing activates like a real animal's. She pauses to collect her thoughts before walking close to the trees. A man emerges from the woods on foot unexpectedly; it is Evan Moffy, topless, standing under a tree.

"Evan Moffy? Why are you here? Did you follow me? I demand an immediate and logical explanation." She could scarcely keep in her indignation; growls at the man.

"Cool down. Christa. Let's get out of here first; I will explain it on the way home. OK?" Evan speaks with such a well-sculpted figure, a handsome face, and a megawatt smile.

Be wary of strangers who offer you a ride. Christa hardly knows him-he's a perfect stranger, but there is something about him; somehow, she feels she can trust him. So the lady follows him to arrive somewhere at the front of his jeep in a thin bush.

"It can't be a coincidence. Is there any particular reason why you are here?" Christa asks as she hops into the front seat. It is a common courtesy to take the front when someone offers you a ride.

"Seatbelt, please." Evan pulls on a black T-shirt and starts the engine after putting it on. The well-worn jeep bumps along the dirt track, crushing tree branches, and the atmosphere is glacial.

"Are you playing a detective? How long have you been tailing your husband? He is a very dangerous person, Christa." Evan stops the vehicle after driving a quite long distance.

Chirisa looks at him, a flicker of amusement in her cold eyes. She certainly knows what's what; being a victim, she needs to find her way to seek vengeance.

"We lived just a stone's throw from the place. I suspected there might be something funny going on there, so I scouted the area. Precaution measures have been taken to prevent us werewolves from straying into the settlement, which means someone specially designed the place to keep us away. Any idea why? "Evan says it in a serious tone.

"I can tell that you don't want to share the truth, as long as you are not stalking me; I don't care what you are doing there. Everyone minds their own business. "Intuitively, Christa knows that he is lying, but she bothers less about digging.

"You are not wearing your ring, and you didn't wear it this morning. If you didn't take it on purpose, something has happened. What is it? Did you find he is cheating on you?" Evan smirks.

"It is none of your business. I know it was you who asked the server in the hotel to tell me about the room. Thank you for the ride; I can go from here." Christa tries to unlock the door.

"It's in the middle of nowhere. Are you counting on calling a cab into the woods? Don't act like a spoiled girl. I will drive you to the hotel." Evan starts the engine.

The drive was fast and truly exciting; Christa closed her eyes because she didn't feel like saying anything. While Lewis's behavior at first shocked her, on reflection, a secret facility made perfect sense. However, what exactly is Evan's role in this mess?

Could he be the variable that changes her fate? If not, it is not plausible that too many encounters with him since she wakes up from the dead. Christa opens her eyes and exclaims in delight at the scene because they are not far from the hotel now.

"Could you please tell me more about the werewolf thing? A pro for the quo, I will find out what's inside the damn building. Is that a deal?" Christa reaches out her left hand.

"OK. Don't you think you should talk to your parents first? I need to take care of some business right now. See you at the school tomorrow." Evan parks the car in front of the lobby and shakes her hand.

Christa packed and checked out of the hotel; Edwin was waiting in the parking lot to take her to Morrie's house. Edwin had served the Morrie family as their driver since the beginning; he was in his early fifties, small with fewer words.

"Edwin, thank you very much for coming to pick me up." Edwin helps her with her bag, and Christa follows him to the car.

"No problem. Where is Lewis? Don't tell me he ditches you on your honeymoon." Edwin was like an uncle to her. He was the chauffeur who picked her up in a limo the first time she visited Morrie's house when she was fourteen years old.

It was Lewis's eighteen birthday, as the only heir of Alfred Morrie and Eva Morrie. They hold a big birthday party to celebrate the passage into adulthood; apart from there are other interesting customs concerning the celebration. The Morrie family invited almost everyone they knew, and Christa's father-Dean was a close friend of Alfred, so he took his family to the party.

Lewis was the sort of person who stood out in a crowd at his best age. It sounds corny, but it really was love at first sight for Christa and they became an item two years later. It is shameful that she was too young and too simple by then.

"Bingo. The patients will not survive without him." Christa jumps into the back seat after Edwin opens the car door for her.

An embarrassed silence followed her remark. The four-carat diamond ring glittered on her finger, and Christa helped to design the irreplaceable ring herself. Christa spends the next hour going over the events in her mind while heading to Morrie's house.

Morrie's house is a secluded twelve-bedroom luxury estate; together with the Morries, there are 9 of them living there. When they arrived, the white gates swung open, and the butler Mr. Hodson in a business suit directed the car into the curved driveway.

There is no one in the hall; Christa hears the loud ticking of the clock in the hall. She arrives three hours late because this time she follows the tracks of her husband. Their bedroom is on the second floor; Mr. Hodson helps to park her bags while Christa rushes into the study room.

The door is locked. Despite her attempts to break it, the lock would not yield. In her previous life, Christa didn't use the study room until a week later. She never noticed that he had changed it into a code lock and the passport was her birthday.

"Mr. Hodson? Do you have a key? I need to borrow books for my paper from the study." Christa asks for help after she fails to unlock the door.

"Only Lewis had the key. He never let us in, even when Mary wants to clean it for him." Mr. Hodson says it in a sorry tone.

Mary is the housekeeper; she is in her middle fifties and a slow worker, but to give her her due, she does try very hard. Christa doesn't like her now though she used to be kind to her.

"I see. Please let me be. I want a rest. Thank you." Christa walks back to the bedroom.

Lewis liked to hide his keys in the top of the closet; it was an odd quirk she used to think was very cute; Christa found it by accident once she tried to dress him, and she kept it to herself until this day.

Christa knows exactly where it is; she opens the closet and ferrets around for the key. Sure enough there it is. Christa rams the key into the lock and turns the key, and the door springs open.

The furnishings are totally different since there are files and books everywhere. Christa picks her way delicately over the ground; most of the books are about genes and fertility that she is in sheer ignorance of the subject.

Physical characteristics are determined by genetic inheritance. Genetic abnormalities are more often associated with faults in paternal DNA than in maternal DNA. It limited variation among humans to the possible permutations of our genes. Their work includes the identification of genes that govern the growth rate and fertility.

Christa takes a photo of them with her phone, and there are pictures on the table that freak her out. Christa swears she can smell blood here as she absorbs the powerful onslaught of arousing visuals and bloody special effects in movies.

At the same time, Lewis comes inside the house, along with his parents. Christa could hear him clattering around downstairs and calling for her.