Chapter 192: The Intertwining of Dreams and Reality

In the dream, Alice was just as reserved and quiet as Irene. At first, Irene was very friendly towards her. In the dream, Irene listened for a long time to Alice’s story and felt that they both had unhappy childhoods, so she wanted to be friends with her. With Irene’s companionship, Alice began to smile more. When she smiled, it was shy, with two cute dimples appearing on her cheeks. Even though Alice didn’t like to talk much, having been raised in the Raphael family and later taken in by the Norman family, she hadn’t missed out on any of her education. She was highly skilled in playing the piano, bel canto singing, academics, and even yoga. She had also learned horseback riding, and later even won first place in a competition in A City. Alice had been accepted into the top university in all of Q Country, studying finance. She had achieved excellent results in numerous competitions, and before graduating, she had already been introduced to a major company for an internship. Within two months, she had been promoted three times. In contrast, Irene had gotten into a school that was little more than a diploma mill, a place where you could buy your way in for a degree. She hadn’t experienced the various activities of high society ladies, didn’t know the differences between gourmet foods, designer clothes, or handbags, and lacked the refined tastes to engage in highbrow discussions. Wherever Alice went, she brought Irene along. Even when Irene occasionally embarrassed herself, Alice would cover for her. Despite her social anxiety and her usual reluctance to speak to strangers, Alice would speak up to defend Irene. In the dream, Irene watched as Alice earnestly declared, "Irene is the true eldest daughter of the Norman family; I’m just staying with them—I’m a Raphael." In the dream, Irene was deeply moved. But no matter what, Irene always felt out of place at social events, like an ugly duckling. The socialites around her would politely smile at her, but only spoke to Alice. Irene would sit to the side, feeling like a transparent person. None of the ladies held Irene in high regard. They believed that even though she had been found and brought back, she was worthless—a person who couldn’t manage a household or assist her husband, nor could she stand on her own and create a business to contribute to the family’s legacy. She was ignorant, a joke to bring out in public! She was just a country bumpkin, after all. Once, Irene overheard someone at a party mock her: “She’s a lady in name but a peasant at heart!” It wasn’t just the outside world that disdained her. Even at home, the maids and servants began to overlook her requests, prioritizing Alice’s needs instead. Even her loving parents seemed unsure of how to handle the situation, offering comfort while arranging for various tutors to teach her everything. In the dream, Irene studied diligently. One time, she finally mastered flower arranging and was excited to show her family the vase she had carefully crafted. But that very day, Alice received her acceptance letter to the top-ranked graduate school in the world, located in M Country. The family held a celebration for Alice and officially renamed her Alice Raphael Norman. Before Irene could even grow into her own, she had already lost her place. Gradually, her parents began to feel awkward around her. Her father was better—he continued to encourage her, even showing her a document stating that he had set aside an inheritance and assets specifically for her, reassuring her that she was loved. Her father’s support gave Irene a sense of security and reminded her that she was still loved. But when it came to her mother, Irene couldn’t help but feel sad and lost. Her mother would always avoid meeting Irene’s eyes in the dream. Irene would often see her mother hugging Alice, laughing and chatting, but as soon as they saw Irene, they would immediately put on polite smiles and give her looks of concerned attention. Irene felt deeply uncomfortable. It didn’t feel like they were treating her as their daughter but rather as a guest they had to accommodate. Fortunately, her father’s encouragement kept Irene from falling into complete despair. She kept telling herself that she needed to achieve something, to make her father proud. But there was always a voice in her head. It was a woman’s voice, whispering in Irene’s mind during the dream: “She’s a fake, and now she’s replaced you. Don’t you think it’s ridiculous?” “Are you sure you want to tolerate this?” “She’s already turned you into a laughingstock in the circle. Are you sure you want to be so lenient?” “That’s not leniency; that’s stupidity!” The voice in her head began to scream: “You shouldn’t let her live! Look! It’s just you and her in the house! There’s a fruit knife on the table! Pick it up! Kill her!” The voice then turned low and sinister: “Kill her, and no one will ever know.” In the dream, Irene, for some inexplicable reason, really picked up that fruit knife. The servants said she was jealous and inherently evil. Her mother was deeply disappointed in her and even moved Alice to live with her. That villa was left with only Irene. In the dream, Irene was heartbroken. Her mother, while her father was away on a business trip, called a psychiatrist. Irene always felt that the psychiatrist wasn’t really a doctor. Every time that doctor spoke, Irene’s head would hurt terribly, with noisy echoes that made her head throb. The psychiatrist diagnosed her with severe tri-polar disorder, warning that she would become violent during episodes. Her mother then sent her to a mental hospital. In the dream, Irene tried to contact her father, but within a few days, news came that her father had been accidentally killed during a business trip abroad, caught in a local gang conflict. His body was so riddled with bullets that there was nothing left to bury. Rain poured down, hammering the leaves and branches, with the wind slamming the tree limbs against the windows. Irene woke up with a start! She leapt out of bed in one fluid, practiced motion, as if she were a professional athlete. Her eyes were as beautiful as an endless galaxy, swirling with all sorts of colors. Her entire being radiated a dangerous aura, her tall figure crouched low in the room, like a drop of ink in a pool of water. This was the hotel where she was temporarily staying. Sweat beaded on Irene’s forehead, her long hair falling over her shoulders. She reached into a hidden compartment in her backpack and pulled out a fragment of a ribbon. Though it was only a piece, the exquisite craftsmanship was still evident, with a mysterious pattern woven into it using reflective thread. Irene lit a cigarette. As the smoke curled around her, her gaze was sharp and cold. To become such a depressed and broken person over familial love—that wasn’t her nature. What was the meaning of this dream? Was it a warning? And why did her father die abroad while on a business trip, with his body left in such a state that nothing was recovered? Thinking about the strange occurrences with Robertson’s security team today, Irene’s eyes narrowed in thought.