Novel & Cerita Christine Paolilla Crime Scene Photos

Yusuf said in his neutral professional voice. Killian nodded. "You are dismissed," he said, his hands curling in fists and shoved in his pocket. I looked back at the photograph. My hand shake a little and my vision blured for a moment. I shook myself and ground myself into reality. Adeline had cigarette burn marks on her arms, the gruesome scene was bloody as they were fresh and first photos of the crime scene, her lips blue and her eyes bulged out. Her dead and lifeless body on the bed.

Rae asked the Inspector in front of her. “It is, a dire one that is” Vaan handed the big brown envelope to the detective and Jae Min. Jae Min opened the envelope and pulled out its content carefully. Inside, were several crime photos that were taken in a certain street. In the photos, is a woman victim with a crushed neck. Under further inspection, there’s a human teeth mark on the woman's neck. Rae clenched her fist, knowing that the damned killer is still outside. She’s not exactly a hero of justice, seeing the fallen victim from ‘The Cannibal’ just made it worse.

He read it, and his face went pale. "Boss. The second heat signature inside the cabin—our surveillance just got a partial visual." He held up the tablet, and I saw the grainy image of a woman through the cabin window. Dark hair, sharp features, a familiar posture that made my stomach drop. "It's not Luca Castellano. It's Lila."

The lead officer stared at her. Without a word, he pulled several crime scene photos from an evidence bag and handed them over. "Professor Doyle. Look." The photos showed my body. My face was a sick blue-purple from the allergic reaction and suffocation. My throat was grotesquely swollen, bulging like something had been jammed inside. The pressure had forced my bloodshot eyes wide open. No special effects makeup could fake the marks of a life ending in pure agony. Her phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor.

Case closed due to lack of evidence and powerful legal pressure. My hands shook as I scrolled. There were photos. Grainy, but clear enough. Damien, much younger, standing beside a beautiful dark-haired woman who looked strikingly like Elena. Another photo showed police at the scene. I felt sick. The door opened. Damien stepped in, loosening his tie, exhaustion carved into his face. When he saw me, his expression shifted from tired to alert in a heartbeat. “Isla? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hide the tablet. I couldn’t anymore.

“What the hell happened here?” Patricia stands, shows her ID. “Patricia Sandoval. Private investigator. I have evidence of conspiracy, attempted murder, and fraud involving Marina Castillo and Antonio Vega. The shooting was self-defense. I have it all on recording.” She holds up a small device. Still recording. “She filmed everything?” Sofia whispers to me. “Everything,” Patricia confirms. “From the moment Marina walked in until now. Including her confession to murdering Antonio.” The paramedics lift Mateo onto a stretcher. His vitals are crashing.

It was normally cluttered with her skincare products, jewelry boxes, and a few framed photos of them together. Now, the surface was completely bare. No, not completely. In the center of the polished wood sat a photograph and a folded piece of white paper. Dante picked up the photo, and his pupils contracted. It was a close-up of Alessia's collarbone. Where the Moretti family crest had been, there was now only a faint, white scar. The tattoo had been completely removed. The skin had healed, but the scar was a silent declaration—Dante Moretti had been permanently erased from her body.

I felt something cold settle behind my ribs. I scrolled further. I found some photos. Not explicit. But worse. A woman standing in a kitchen with a child sitting at a table too large for his small body, legs swinging nervously with Frank Rinaldi between the woman and child. Another image; Elena’s face, pale, eyes hollowed, a faint bruise half-hidden beneath her hairline. Timestamped weeks apart. I locked the screen. Closed my eyes. And exhaled slowly through my nose. Frank Rinaldi had a wife.

A news report flashed onto the big screen, drawing everyone’s attention to the photos featured on it. In the photo, Melanie was surrounded by Medonia policemen. People who were envious and jealous of her just seconds ago started whispering under their breaths. “A while back, the president of Shadow Group, Mr. Charles Miller, died from an electric shock attack due to a taser. I’m sure everyone has heard about that? Melanie Jones wasn’t far from Charles Miller when the attack occurred. She’s the key suspect of this case! She was nabbed by the police, and she even got locked up!”

Lyza is the one taking care of him. "Really? " I nodded, and another batch of tears rolled down her face. She sobbed, and I kept consoling her, but her tears kept falling. We reached the police station with Christine's bloated face and eyes red from crying. We went inside, and we found Christine's mother and Doctor Alfred inside the room, and Inspector Ronald was with them. Another officer is questioning them. Inspector Ronald signaled us to sit down, and we occupied the two vacant seats. After questioning Doctor Alfred and Christine's mother, the officer asks for Christine. Christine sat in front of the officer and answered all the questions he asked her.