When my eyes were gouged out, my mother was shopping with my cousin.

When I was forced to drink a bottle of acid and died in agony, she snapped impatiently, “Kara, can’t you be as well-behaved as Wendy? If you’re just going to run away, then don’t bother calling me!”

However, when she saw the crime scene, she rushed outside and threw up.

As a criminal psychologist specially hired by the River City police, how could she feel sick at the sight of her own daughter’s body?

After the report came in, the police rushed to the scene of my death. The empty building was drafty on all sides, thick with the stench of rotting blood. The blood on the floor was still wet, with swarms of flies clinging to it.

The moment Mom saw my body, she froze for a moment. Then, she turned around and ran outside, covering her mouth as she gagged uncontrollably.

Officer Zane silently put on a mask and handed her a bottle of water.

I watched as she steadied herself before stepping back into the foul-smelling room.

The body in front of her had no head, seemingly brutally chopped off at the neck. The upper torso had been split open from the chest, exposing organs that were already decaying. The lower half was a mangled mess of flesh and blood, making it impossible to even determine the victim’s gender.

As I watched Mom carefully examine the body, my soul felt a quiet ache. It had been so long since we were this close.

Every time we met, it always ended with tension and arguments.

Mom frowned. Her gaze was fixed on an old scar on the arm.

Hope flickered in my eyes. Did she recognize me? I got the scar as a child when I tried to pour her some hot water. I accidentally burned myself. There was no way she could have forgotten!

Back then, she had looked at it with such pain and said, “I'll never allow you to be hurt again, Kara.”

However, after my cousin, Wendy Page, came to live with us, I was no longer the one she protected. She felt sorry that my cousin had no one and left me to live like an orphan.

However, Mom only glanced at the scar briefly before looking away. She looked away without a trace of concern. She frowned at the gruesome body and turned to the medical examiner, “Ms. Hudson, any initial findings?”

The medical examiner stood up with her brows tightly knitted together. “The victim is a young woman, around twenty-five. She was forced to ingest a corrosive liquid before death. The exact cause will need further examination back at the station.”

She paused for a moment, then forced out through clenched teeth, “She was also subjected to severe sexual assault and abuse before she died.”

Mom's eyes reddened when she heard that. “Judging from the condition of the body, the killer was acting out of rage. Such a young girl. What a tragedy.”

My dear mother had always been deeply empathetic. She could grieve the loss of a young life like this. Yet she had never once shown me the same compassion.

I studied the sympathetic look on her face. If she knew the victim was me, would her eyes still turn red?

Of course not. She would probably feel relieved to be rid of a daughter she found so bothersome.

Even when my cousin and her friends were picking on me, Mom had only looked at me with disgust and said, “Kara, can you stop lying? I’d be grateful enough if you weren’t the one bullying Wendy.”

In Mom's eyes, even the victims in her cases seemed to matter more to her than I ever did.

Her phone rang. When she looked at the screen, a faint warmth appeared on her face.

I leaned in. It was Wendy. She was asking whether Mom would be coming home for dinner.

Mom sent a voice message back. Her voice was softer than anything I had ever heard from her. “Sweetie, I’ve got a tricky case on my hands tonight. Don’t wait for me. Take care of yourself. Just tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll get it for you.”

Officer Zane, who stood beside, let out a chuckle. “Moira, so you and Kara made up? I thought you were still holding a grudge against the girl. Moms and daughters are close at heart. Any conflict will soon be forgotten.”

Mom pressed her red lips together and said in a low voice, “Wendy is my one and only daughter. Wesley, don’t bring up Kara again. She ran away from home this time. She’s been missing for five or six days. She didn’t even go to her father’s memorial.”

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t run away from home. I just couldn't ever go back again.

…

The task force took the brutal murder case extremely seriously.

The police feared the horrifying condition of the body would cause public panic, so catching the killer was urgent.

The medical examiner sat at the conference table and handed a file to Mom. “Moira, this is the autopsy report I compiled back at the bureau. Take a look.”

Mom's expression turned cold as she read the report, “Female victim, identity unknown, approximately 25 years old. The crime scene is an abandoned building in the suburbs. Multiple fatal injuries. The cause of death was internal organ corrosion from sulfuric acid, leading to shock from extreme pain. Genital mutilation and sexual assault confirmed. Head severed from the body… This child died far too tragically.”

Officer Zane noticed her grim expression and asked, “From a criminal psychology perspective, what stands out as the key breakthrough in this case?”

Mom bit her lip. “We need to determine whether this was a revenge killing or a crime of passion. Sexual motives can’t be ruled out. But given the extent of torture inflicted before death, it’s more likely the offender had deep personal resentment toward the victim.”

I shuddered. Mom’s analysis was completely accurate!

An officer frowned and asked, “The victim’s head is still missing, and we don’t even know how long she’s been dead. Why hasn’t anyone reported her missing?”

A sharp ache rose in my chest as I looked at Mom, who was still calmly analyzing the case. She had never cared about where I was. It did not matter whether I appeared or disappeared. I was just something insignificant to her.

Mom cleared her throat and parted her red lips. “From the crime scene, the offender likely has underlying psychological issues. The motive appears largely driven by the release of pent-up rage. We need to identify the victim as quickly as possible and reconstruct her social network.”

Officer Zane nodded in satisfaction. “Moira, take Team A back to the scene for another sweep. Forensics, please go as well. See if you can find anything we missed.”

After a pause, he added, “Anyone with daughters at home, make sure they stay safe lately.”

Mom let out a sigh and reached for her phone.

Officer Zane pointed at her from across the room. “Moira, don’t forget about Kara. She’s your biological daughter!”

Mom froze ever so slightly. Then, a flicker of irritation crossed her eyes. “Wesley, my husband died because of her back then. I can’t get past that. All these years, the daughter who’s been living with me is Wendy, not Kara.”

Officer Zane rubbed the bridge of his nose and said helplessly, “You should at least listen to Kara’s explanation. That kid’s always been quietly looking out for you behind your back.”

Mom's lips twitched slightly. Her expression was slightly stiff. “Wesley, I know you mean well, but whatever bond I had with her as mother and daughter is long gone. She caused her father’s death, and she’s been bullying Wendy all these years. She’s just born bad.”

I let out a self-mocking laugh.

Back then, after my aunt divorced, she died in a car accident. Hence, my parents took in my cousin. One day, my cousin and I ran into Dad while he was on a mission. I knew I had to pretend not to recognize him in public.

However, Wendy ignored everything I said and walked right up to him, smiling innocently yet chillingly. “Uncle Damian, are you catching bad guys?”

Her words exposed him, and Dad was killed by the criminals that day.

Wendy claimed it was me who had called out to him and exposed his undercover identity. Mom looked at my cousin’s tear-streaked face, then at my stunned silence, and believed her.

I was too young, too frightened to even process what had happened.

Mom simply went ahead and judged me guilty on her own.

Now, remembering the day she learned of Dad's death, Mom's eyes darkened with anger. “Wesley, Kara didn’t even cry once after Damian died. She refuses to go to the memorial with me every year on his death anniversary. She’s just a cold, ungrateful child!”

But she brought Wendy to his grave every year. I just did not want to mourn my father alongside the person I believed had caused his death.

Officer Zane shook his head. He did not agree with Mom. “You say she’s cold-hearted, but every year, Kara passes me a birthday gift to place on your desk. She was just a child back then.”

He paused for a moment and added, “Besides, you can’t just take your adopted daughter’s word for what happened back then.”

Mom clenched her hands tightly. Her chest rose and fell. “Wesley, you don’t need to defend Kara anymore. She came from my body. I know exactly what kind of person she is. From now on, Wendy is my only daughter.”

Officer Zane could only throw out a final remark when he saw how stubborn she was. “You’ve been up all night. Go home and rest. If anything comes up, I’ll call you back to the bureau.”

When the sulfuric acid burned through my mouth and white smoke rose from my lips, I wanted so badly to whisper one last thing—'Mom, take care of yourself.'

However, the pain was too overwhelming. I could not even form a full sentence.

All I could do was listen as her irritated and sharp voice came through the phone,

“Kara, can’t you be as well-behaved and sensible as Wendy? If you’re just going to run away from home, then don’t bother calling me!”

My breathing grew weaker. As I was tortured to death, I looked helplessly as the devil walked toward me with a knife.

Even in my final moments, I was still thinking about how I had not given Mom the birthday gift I had prepared for her this year.

…

The house was still warm, just like it had been when I was alive. To Mom, this was her home with Wendy. My existence would only disturb the life they shared.

Wendy thoughtfully poured my mother a glass of honey water. She gently massaged her shoulders. “Mom, is the case that hard? You’ve got dark circles already.”

Mom pinched her cheek affectionately. Her tone was warm and doting. “You’ve got sharp eyes. You really are an angel sent from heaven.”