Chapter 2

The outfit George had on in the video was identical to the outfit he had on in the photo he shared earlier.

However, this didn't make sense.

Logically speaking, if he had already resigned from his job, he should have returned his security uniform to the company. There was no way he could be wearing that uniform on a bus ride back to his hometown.

In a gentle voice, Tom asked, "Is it all clear to you now?"

I clenched my teeth and forced a strained smile. "Yes, it is, Mr. Frost. I must have been completely out of it after staying up all night."

"Oh, Will. It is a virtue for someone to know their place," Tom remarked. He nodded, looking satisfied.

"Just look at how well your younger sister is doing. She will be able to get into a good college in the future. Sometimes, when one takes a wrong step in life, others get dragged down along with them."

He turned around and headed for the door.

"You may leave now. Remember—it's cold outside. Don't go wandering around," he added.

I followed him out of the basement.

When I returned to the security office on the first floor, my colleagues from the day shift were still around. They stopped chattering the moment they saw me step into the room. They levelled me with strange stares.

The team leader of the security team, Lance Dalton, remarked with a scoff, "That was not cool, Will."

"How could you wish death upon Mr. Rowland when he always looked out for you?"

"Right? Even the authorities have come by to have a look, and they found nothing."

Everyone pointed their fingers at me. Strangely enough, they all seemed to be singing the same song. Everyone believed I was out of my mind.

I sat in a chair in a corner, not saying a word. I shouldn't defend myself. The more I defended myself, the more I'd appear like a madman.

I took my phone out and tapped into the WhatsApp conversation with George. The bank transfer of ten thousand dollars was such an eyesore.

I stared at the words that read, "Easy money." What in the world did George uncover in the basement?

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number.

It read, "You saw something you shouldn't have seen."

I leapt to my feet and scanned my surroundings. My colleagues in the security room were scrolling on their own phones. None of them paid any attention to me.

Out the window, Tom's car slowly pulled out of the main gates.

It was 2:00 am. Only a soft hum from the equipment could be heard in the security room.

I stared at the wall of surveillance monitors. 64 individual feeds captured every corner of the residential area. The footage from the surveillance camera covering the freezer storage on level B2 was the only one that flickered regularly.

That was where George took the photograph that he sent.

I retrieved the surveillance footage from the last 12 hours. I fast-forwarded and rewinded it, combing through it frame by frame.

George had gone down to the basement at 8:10 pm. At 8:15 pm, he sent that photograph. Then, he walked out of the surveillance blind spot in the basement at 8:20 pm.

Everything looked flawless.

I dragged the scrubber back to 8:15 pm and hit the pause button. I studied the footage intently.

George was walking toward the main door to the walk-in freezer with his back toward the surveillance camera. Something wasn't right with his gait.

He had rheumatism in his left leg, so he dragged his left foot slightly when he walked. However, the person in this footage lifted his left foot and planted it back down with such agility. Nothing seemed wrong with his leg at all.

This wasn't George! It was an imposter wearing George's uniform.

They had already swapped places in the walk-in freezer before 8:10 pm. The real George had not walked out of that place at all!

Instantly, I broke out in goosebumps.

This wasn't a straightforward homicide case. This was someone who was able to find a substitute whose figure seemed so much like George's. Not only were they able to connect to his phone and have a video call so flawlessly, but they also managed to get everyone in the entire company to cover for them.

This was someone powerful enough to execute all that.

Then, there was a click. Suddenly, the door to the security room was pushed open. As quickly as I could, I stopped the playback of the surveillance footage and put the live feed back on the screen.

Tom walked in, carrying an insulated lunchbox. Hadn't he already driven off?

"Will, you haven't had supper yet, have you?" he asked with a smile. He placed the insulated lunchbox on the table.

"Here are some meatballs I just asked the chefs at the cafeteria to prepare. Have them while they're still fresh."

I stared at the insulated lunchbox, not moving a single muscle. As I forced myself to remain calm, I asked, "What made you turn back, Mr. Frost?"

Tom pulled a chair over and sat down next to me. "I was worried about you. You looked like you were really out of it this evening," he answered, scanning the surveillance screens on the wall.

He looked back, fixing his gaze on me.

"Ten thousand dollars is a significant sum of money, Will. While George is generous, you should also be smart about things. Some closed doors aren't meant to be opened; some video recordings should be deleted after they're watched."

Though his words sounded nonchalant, the way he strung them together made my shoulders feel heavy.

He was testing me. He knew I was looking at the surveillance footage!