When Dad got the emergency call to return to the precinct, they still hadn’t found all the pieces of my body scattered across the city.Outside, thunder cracked and lightning tore through the sky. Rain poured in sheets, drowning the streets. Every available officer, along with K-9 units, was deployed to search the area.Detective Foster stepped through the precinct doors, soaked and panting, holding a bloodied evidence bag. “This bag didn’t get wet,” he said, handing it to my dad. “Jerry, see if there’s any trace DNA left on it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”Dad nodded and opened the bag. Inside were small, evenly sliced chunks of reddish-brown flesh.In that instant, Dad’s eyes turned bloodshot. His breath grew ragged, like he was trying to keep his rage from boiling over.“This bastard… This wasn’t just murder. These were cut off while the victim was still alive.”It’s been eight years, and this was the first time I’d seen my dad cry for me.Detective Foster’s face darkened, and h
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