Chapter 4

As it was murder and a gruesome one, the case was quickly brought up to the detectives.

Hence, Gus had barely sat down in his office when Phil Larkin, who worked in forensics, rushed in, his face pale. "Chief… We have a situation."

Gus was sipping tea as he asked nonchalantly, "What's the panic? Is the world ending?"

Phil's voice was quivering. "They found a female body on West Street… initial hypothesis: beaten and stabbed to death. Estimated time of death: last night…"

Gus frowned. "Just stick to procedure. Confirm the deceased's identity."

Phil gulped, avoiding Gus' stare as he continued, "And… she had something."

"What?"

"A silver necklace and a phone… The wallpaper is a photo of you with her."

Clang!

Gus' mug slipped out of his hand, shattering into pieces on the floor.

A silver necklace?

He had bought one for me when I was ten, calling it a lucky charm.

And I had always used a photo of us when I was five and he gave me a piggyback as my phone wallpaper.

That was the happiest moment of my life.

Gus sprang to his feet, the legs of his chair grating as they scraped against the floor.

"What did you say?" he asked Phil hoarsely.

The other man hung his head, his voice choking with tears. "You should go check it out, chief… She looks like… Lisa!"

Gus wobbled and promptly snapped, "No way! That brat was still calling me asking for money last night! She's as tough as a cockroach—why would she be dead? No, it must be a trick! Want me to pick her up? I'll expose her this instant!"

However, even as he strode out, he clearly looked flustered, even hitting a desk on his way out.

Still, he kept running as if it didn't hurt.

I floated behind him, watching his trembling hands.

Was he actually afraid?

Wasn't he saying that vermin like me dying was simply good riddance anyway?

Why couldn't he hold his hands steady now?

Nonetheless, he soon sped down the highway at top speed, shooting past three red lights, and finally arrived at West Street after twenty minutes.

There were many rubberneckers beyond the police line, while Wanda and Yorick had also been there for a while.

Wanda was on her knees, wailing hysterically and almost choking a few times.

Yorick kept trying to shove his way past the police line, but two officers persistently kept him at bay.

Seeing Gus, he dashed straight at Gus, his eyes bloodshot as he punched Gus' chest. "She's dead! Are you happy now?! Aren't you happy now?!"

Gus stumbled backward from the punch, his face ashen pale.

Still, he pushed Yorick out of the way and slowly walked toward my body, which was covered with a piece of white cloth.

Every step seemed to drain his leg, while I floated beside the body, quietly waiting for him to finally accept the truth.

His hands were trembling as he lifted a corner of the cloth and saw the face left deathly pale under the rain, covered in bruises and cuts.

The body was disfigured, but he still recognized it.

It was me—the biological daughter he had despised and cursed for more than ten years.

And in my hand was that microchip, my dead flesh meshing around it as I clenched my hand so tightly.

Beside him, another forensics team member said quietly, "Chief, I think that microchip in her hand… is the cartel's ledgers."

Gus' eyes widened at the microchip and at my dead, wide-open eyes.

They were fixed on him, and my mouth was open as if asking: Father, would you finally look at me twice if I end up a corpse?