Chapter 6
After a few days of rest, I returned to work.
On the surface, life appeared to have regained its calm rhythm, but I often woke in the middle of the night, startled, my mind replaying that phone call over and over the final words of that woman, lingering like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
My boss must have noticed something off in my demeanor because she called me into her office.
“You haven’t told your parents, have you? You probably have your reasons, but have you thought about how they’d feel? Parents always want to protect their children. They must be worried sick about you,” she said, her tone a mix of concern and gentleness.
Tears welled up in my eyes. “Thank you,” I said, voice trembling.
Before I left, she handed me the contact information for a psychologist.
I visited a few sessions, and, for a time, it seemed to help. But as the days stretched on, I couldn’t shake the persistent feeling of being watched, as if countless invisible eyes were locked onto me.
There was also that one phrase–the woman’s last words–buried in my mind like a splinter: “This isn’t over!”
Meanwhile, the story was gaining traction online. Media outlets threw around words like “human trafficking” and “organ harvesting” with reckless abandon.
Eyewitness accounts surfaced too, claiming they’d seen the girl’s body.
“Her body was deflated,” one said.
“She was… hollowed out,” another said.
Speculation spun wildly, the rumors taking on a life of their own.
The police called me in for several statements. At one of the sessions, unable to hold back any longer, I asked directly, “Were they human traffickers?”
The middle–aged detective, his tea cup poised mid–air, studied me for a moment before taking a slow sip. Leaning back in his chair, he replied with deliberate calm, “Something like that.”
His sharp gaze seemed to pierce through me, leaving no space to hide. But his words also carried a subtle denial. That left only one other possibility.
“Organ harvesting?” I asked.
This time, he didn’t deny it. He placed his glass on the table with a muted thud.
