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.”

My cousin lowered her gaze, and tears the size of pearls rolled down her face. “Mom, Kara keeps saying I’m a demon.”

A sharp pain pierced my chest. There she went again, putting on that same fake, delicate act again.

However, Mom always fell for it. Every time she did, I was the one who ended up getting scolded.

Wendy glanced at Mom's darkening expression, and a glint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes. She had long since replaced me, becoming the only daughter in Mom's heart.

Even the blood bond between Mom and me could be easily twisted apart by her.

One time, Wendy led me to my deranged admirer. She knew exactly what would happen to me, yet she did it anyway. Of course, she had nothing to fear. In Mom’s eyes, she was always an innocent, kind-hearted daughter.

The moment Wendy came into our home, I did not just lose Dad. I lost Mom as well.

Wendy bit her lower lip. Her face was deathly pale, pitiful enough to make anyone’s heart ache. “Mom, is it because I accidentally broke Kara’s doll that she still hates me?”

I stared at Mom’s face at the mention of the doll.

It was a fabric doll Dad, Mom, and I had made together when he was still alive.

However, Mom softened instantly when she looked at Wendy’s reddened nose and misty eyes. “Wendy, you didn’t mean to. It's Kara who’s being petty. I’ve already taught her a lesson. When she comes home, I’ll make her apologize to you. You can decide how she makes it up to you.”

Wendy understood Mom’s temper too well. She could easily stir her anger again with just a few words. “Mom, Kara isn’t the type to apologize easily. All these years, she hasn’t even said sorry to Uncle Damian.”

Mom’s breathing grew heavier. Her lips pressed into a tight line as anger flickered in her eyes.

The rage I had been holding back surged up inside me. That scheming woman still had the nerve to mention Dad!

After I rejected the deranged admirer, she even smiled and said to me, “Kara, I think you two are actually pretty compatible. Why don’t you just marry him?”

I wore a look of restrained anger. My tone was cold as ice. “If you’re so eager to get married, why don’t you accept his confession yourself?”

Wendy raised an eyebrow, flipped her curled hair over her shoulder, and sneered,

“Kara, stop pretending. You know exactly how much Mom hates you. If I were you, I would’ve been too ashamed to stay in this house a long time ago.”

Her father was an alcoholic who abused her mother. After her parents divorced, he took revenge by running her mother over with a car.

I had always felt there was something twisted about her, but she hid it well. She was jealous of my happy family and wanted to replace me, to become part of it herself.

She succeeded.

Mom, moved by her fragility and pitiful act, trusted and pitied her completely.

My gaze turned icy as I looked at her. “The blood ties between Mom and me can never be severed. You’re nothing but a pathetic clown.”

My words enraged her. She picked up scissors and began cutting the cotton doll—the one Dad, Mom, and I had made together. It was the last thing Dad had left me and the last remaining memory of our family.

My face flushed with anger. I grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it at her.

A surge of satisfaction rose in my chest when I saw the blood at her temple. All the years of humiliation and lies she had inflicted on me finally erupted.

However, a sudden force struck me. I was shoved down onto the shattered glass.

The palm of my hand was cut open, and blood would not stop flowing.

Mom’s voice, thick with anger, rang in my ears. “Kara, I knew it. You’ve always been cruel at heart!”

Mom still would not listen to a word I said. In her eyes, everything I did was wrong. It was just like how she was convinced I was constantly bullying Wendy, that poor, fragile girl.

However, even if I wanted to explain everything, to talk to her properly about all the years of pain and injustice, there was no way I could do it anymore.

I was already dead, killed by Wendy. Pain surged through me, and it felt as though my soul itself was being torn apart.

No matter how much Mom scolded me, I would not be able to answer her. I would no longer be able to quietly leave her gifts to try to fix our broken relationship. All I could do now was lie in the cold morgue, hoping that she would recognize my body and seek justice for me.

…

Just as Mom was about to open the fridge to cook, Officer Zane’s call pulled her back to the police station.

I wondered if she would blame me. After all, my death was ruining the time she could be spending with Wendy.

Officer Zane held up a transparent evidence bag and handed it to her. “Moira, this was found by forensics. There’s a receipt inside the victim’s coat pocket.”

The receipt was stained heavily with blood. Mom lifted it under the light and examined it carefully. Slowly, she read out the store name, “Ethera Boutique…”

A wave of bitter grief surged up my throat. I had gone there to get Mom's birthday gift.

Just then, her phone rang. A gentle female voice came through. “Hello, may I ask if you know Ms. Kara Summers?”

Mom clicked her tongue and answered impatiently, “Yes. Has she caused trouble again?”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then, the voice hesitated. “She picked up the dress she ordered, but she left behind an accessory. We can’t reach her, and you're her listed emergency contact.”

Mom was confused and replied, “I’ll come by tomorrow. Can you give me the address…”

She wrote it down as she spoke.

Officer Zane’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Moira, that address matches the one on the receipt!”

Mom shrugged indifferently. “Probably just a popular shop. What is Kara even up to this time?”

However, Officer Zane shook his head. “You should call her. Check if she’s safe. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Mom frowned in annoyance. “Wesley, why are you so worried about her? Right now, identifying the victim is what matters most.”

She was so close to the truth yet still so far from me.

She was such an exceptional criminal psychologist. How could she so instinctively overlook the boutique? Perhaps it was because she had always hated everything connected to me.

On the back of the receipt, I had written the pickup date. Yet Mom could not recognize my handwriting.

Officer Zane asked her, “Can you infer the victim’s profile from the handwriting?”

Mom’s tone softened as she shifted into professional mode. “The victim likely has large eyes, a high nose bridge, and a slender build. Probably around 5'4". She comes from a good family. From the handwriting, she seems gentle and kind, yet emotionally suppressed. She lacks security and feels lonely.”

She paused for a moment. Was it because the reconstructed image of the victim looked like me?

She could analyze a victim's mind…