2
Mom frowned deeply. “This isn’t random. What kind of grudge would drive someone to do this to a kid?”
Even revenge killings didn’t usually escalate to this level of brutality.
22:18 Thu, Mar 13 A
One of the officers responded respectfully, “Dr. Hartman, Detective Sam Boone’s preliminary investigation ruled out robbery and random violence. This is a revenge killing. The team is cross–checking recent cases of missing persons citywide.”
“Good,” she replied tersely.
She resumed reconstructing the remains, hoping to uncover clues. But her efforts
in vain.
were
Even dental records–often a surefire way to identify a victim–were useless because the suspects had taken the head.
Identifying a person from such a pulverized, unclothed body seemed impossible.
Floating nearby, I felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. At least Mom didn’t know it was me. If she did, she’d only call me a disappointment one last time…
With a heavy sigh, she muttered, “Poor kid. Whatever grudge they had with his family,
why take it out on him?”
For a brief moment, her eyes shimmered with tears.
This was the mom I didn’t recognize.
The meticulous forensic examiner piecing together every shard of bone.
The compassionate woman feels for an unknown victim.
It felt so foreign.
I’d always known Mom didn’t like me.
I remember one rainy night when I was in elementary school. I had a fever, and Mom rushed me to the hospital, letting Dad–exhausted from days of overtime–rest at home.
But she didn’t know Dad got an urgent call not long after we left. He ran out without even grabbing his gear.
That same night he was killed in a shooter
22:18 Thu, Mar 13
Mom
s the one who handled Dad’s autopsy.
85%1
I was too young to understand death back then, but now I realize how traumatic that must have been for her.
Maybe Mom blamed me. If I hadn’t fallen ill that night, Dad might still be alive.
Looking at her now, I couldn’t blame her.
Her focus was interrupted by a sudden ringtone. She stopped mid–motion, glaring at the
two officers.
“It’s not us,” they said quickly.
Mom checked her phone. The call was from Rachel, my aunt.
“I’m busy,” Mom answered curtly.
“Vanessa, do you know where Elijah is? His phone’s off, and no one’s seen him.”
“Elijah?” Mom frowned. “I don’t know. I yelled at him yesterday. He’s probably sulking in some gaming café. Leave him be.”
Rachel’s voice grew concerned. “You yelled at him? Vanessa, he was so excited
yesterday! His scores were good enough for the academy!”
“Academy? That boy needs to get a job in IT or something. Is he becoming a cop? That
would be an insult to the profession.”
Her voice was as sharp as ever.
