10 1
+15 BONUS
“Not Scarlett, not my girl, it can’t be,” he repeated, his voice breaking.
The pack medical examiner arrived within minutes, her face grim as she surveyed the scene. She knelt beside what remained of
me, careful not to disturb the evidence.
“The victim has been dead for several weeks, based on the state of decomposition,” she stated clinically.
“And these burns…” She examined the charred portions of my remains. “These weren’t caused by a single event. The pattern suggests repeated exposure to flame.”
The chief enforcer’s expression darkened. “The fire house. It’s designed to spray fire at intervals.”
“That would be consistent with what I’m seeing,” the examiner confirmed. “This wasn’t an accident or a single act of violence.
This was prolonged torture.”
The chief enforcer approached, but before he could speak, my father grabbed him by the leg.
“Chief, this isn’t real, is it? This isn’t my daughter, right?” His voice was desperate.
A spark of hope glinted in his eyes, suddenly looking like a concerned father worried about his child.
But the chief kicked his hand away and pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs, snapping them around my father’s wrists.
“Mr. Morgan, your former housekeeper came to headquarters with a report that you murdered and concealed your daughter’s
body. He also provided testimony from three other housekeepers.”
The chief held up his phone. “I’m sorry to say, but this is indeed your daughter.”
“Impossible! It can’t be! My daughter isn’t dead, she can’t be!” My father struggled violently against his restraints, his eyes wild with desperation. “She must be hiding somewhere, playing a trick with a fake body!”
I stood silently beside him, watching his frantic denial.
Father, in this moment as the handcuffs close around your wrists, are you afraid of losing everything because you’ll be
imprisoned for murder? Or are you finally realizing that I, your daughter, have truly vanished from this world forever?
“Mr. Morgan, I’ve seen hundreds of bodies in my career. I know the difference between real and fake. Save your explanations for
headquarters,” the chief said coldly.
As the enforcers began leading him away, my father suddenly broke free from their grip with the desperate strength of a cornered wolf. He lunged toward what remained of my body, trying to gather me in his arms.
“No, don’t! My body is already decayed enough. Do you want to damage it further? Just let me have some dignity in death,” I
pleaded uselessly from beside him.
