Chapter 1 The Dead Never Died

Just then, my phone rang. It was Zach from Chester’s law firm.

I switched on speaker.

"Audrey, we've got a new lead on the killer. In ten days, they'll be making a deal at an underground fighting ring in Kachara. It's far too dangerous. Whatever you do, don't go!"

After the call ended, I looked around at everyone gathered there, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

Slowly, I crouched down and rolled up my loose pant legs and sleeves, revealing the scars that covered my body.

The mangled brand on my ankle had come from chasing the killer aboard a ship, where a masked man had pressed a red-hot branding iron into my flesh.

That lead had come from my best friend.

Years ago, she had nearly been sold off by her father, who valued sons over daughters, to an aging bachelor. I had been the one who pulled her out of that nightmare and paid for her education overseas.

The dark purple lash marks stretching across my back were left behind after I was captured by a criminal syndicate while investigating another lead at a border casino, and they beat me for an entire day and night.

That clue had come from Chester's closest friend.

When his mother was diagnosed with cancer, I had given him 80 thousand for her treatment, and he had always said he was forever in debt to me.

The deep scar across my lower abdomen came from an abandoned slaughterhouse, where a criminal had stabbed me with a bayonet. The wound had been so deep that I almost bled to death. If I had not found some wood ash to stop the bleeding, I would have died there.

And that lead had been provided by Ethan, a student I had sponsored for twelve years.

Now, every single one of them was standing here.

I wanted to ask them just one question. If they had always known Chester and my sister were alive… If they had always known the killer never existed… Then why had they fed me one deadly lead after another?

Why had they sent me to places where I could have lost my life?

As they looked at the old and fresh scars covering my body, I saw none of the guilt I had expected. Instead, they looked strangely calm. As though everything had unfolded exactly as they had intended.

…

After a long silence, Chester stepped through the crowd and slowly approached me. His fingers brushed gently over my scars before he patted my head. "Audrey, you've always been clever. If we hadn't distracted you with fake leads, you would've figured out long ago that Phoebe and I never died.

"Those criminals were all professional actors we hired. They knew how to hold back. You were never in any real danger."

My best friend, annoyed, pulled me away from him. "They were just actors, and you only suffered superficial injuries. How much could they possibly have hurt? Chester is Phoebe's husband now. They went through so much just to be together and get away from you. Could you please learn to respect some boundaries?"

Hearing that, I felt as though every drop of blood in my body had frozen solid.

A deafening ringing filled my ears as I clutched my chest. But I could no longer tell whether the pain or the nausea was worse.

As it turned out, Chester’s and my sister’s deaths were not the only elaborate performances. Every lead I had risked my life to pursue had been fabricated too. The criminals had all been actors they hired, and the scars I had once worn like medals of honor had been nothing more than the punchline to their joke.

To them, as long as my sister found happiness, what did it matter if I was left battered and covered in scars?