The older officer cleared his throat sharply. "Watch your words. Don't say anything you shouldn't be saying."

I zipped my lips and shook my head, smirking coldly. I had nothing to worry about because I simply hadn't killed anyone. No matter how much they investigated, I could easily clear my name.

What puzzled me was why the dead man had Steve's ID and who he really was.

Regardless, I had to keep the fact that Steve could only answer truthfully with "yes" or "no" a secret. Otherwise, more trouble would follow me.

Hayley's interrogation went on for a long time, but it wasn't fruitful.

Based on the estimated time of death, if it had been a homicide, my home surveillance footage proved there was no possible window I could've committed the crime.

While Hayley and the older officer went to push for the DNA results, I leaned in close to Steve's ear. "Is the real Steve dead?"

He paused for a second, then answered quietly, "Yes and no."

"Is everything you say the absolute truth?"

"Yes."

My tension finally eased. Then, I couldn't help but mock him a little.

"You're really a menace, Steve. Not only did you cheat on me with my best friend, but you even have an old flame still obsessed with you. Anyway, if the real Steve is barely alive, is he a vegetable then?"

He pondered briefly. "No."

As confused as I was, I didn't intend to keep questioning him. The priority now was to get out of the precinct as soon as possible.

When Hayley returned, her eyes were filled with deep frustration and unwillingness to accept defeat. "The DNA results are out. The deceased isn't Steve. We'll need to compare other DNA records to identify him."

A sneer escaped me. "We're leaving, then."

She quickly stopped me. "But even if it isn't Steve, I still find the man beside you highly suspicious. My instincts tell me he's not Steve. You've hidden the real Steve, while this one is just a stand-in."

I looked into her eyes. "And what makes you so sure? Is this how you normally investigate cases, Officer Brown?"

"It's just my instincts," she said with a bitter smile. "Forget it. You can go. Pretend I didn't say anything."

I grabbed Steve's hand and walked out of the station step by step. Suddenly, Hayley called after us. "Wait! You said he can only answer yes-or-no questions, right?"

A bad feeling surged in my chest. Before I could react, she rushed forward and grabbed Steve's wrist. "Was the person who killed Steve Manson Renee Rosewood?"

I was stunned, but not more than when Steve answered in his clear voice, "Yes."

Wait a minute. This wasn't right. How could he have answered that? I didn't kill anyone!

"Freeze!" Hayley exclaimed, twisting my arm behind my back.

I struggled desperately. "This is illegal, Hayley!"

In the end, she separated me from Steve and restrained us both. I was locked back in the interrogation room, my phone confiscated.

When Hayley walked in, I snapped at her, "You lunatic! I'm going to sue you for this!"

She stayed surprisingly calm as she placed a phone before me. "I'm going to show you a video."

She played it. In the footage, she asked Steve, "Did Renee Rosewood kill the victim on the riverbank?"

His eyelashes trembled slightly as his lips moved. "Yes."

"Was it a contract killing?"

"Yes."

"Are you Steve Manson?"

"No."

"Are you hired by Renee Rosewood to be a stand-in for Steve Manson?"

"Yes."

"Is Steve Manson dead?"

"Yes and no."

My brain buzzed, killing all thoughts in my head.

Every answer Steve gave was enough to sentence me for life, but what terrorized me more was the possibility that he was telling the truth.

After all, I had never killed anyone.

A complicated look flashed in Hayley's eyes.

"I used a polygraph on him. He didn't lie," she said. "I realized something was wrong the moment I saw him. The way he looked at me at the end was almost… pleading.

"No one else could be controlling him except you. As for your motive for killing the victim, only you can tell me the answer."

I lost all rationale and slammed my fists on the table. "Hayley, you must believe me! I didn't kill anyone or hide Steve! Run a polygraph on me right now! You can even check my phone records, my messages, my location history—everything I've done recently! And—"

"Please calm down," Hayley interrupted me, then sighed softly. "Think carefully. Is it possible you have selective amnesia? Or maybe dissociative identity disorder?"

I shook my head in panic. "No, I don't! I swear I don't have any of that!"

Hayley stayed silent for a long time, then began laying out her theory.

"If we want to find out where the real Steve is, we can only work backward through a series of location-based questions. So, allow me to entertain you with my theory. Tell me if it makes sense.

"After Steve cheated on you, you harbored resentment. You found a man with a similar build, someone with an intellectual disability. You spent a large sum of money to surgically alter him to look exactly like Steve, even down to a one-to-one replica of the tattoo.

"Then, you used some form of suggestion or conditioning to make him only capable of answering 'yes,' 'no,' and 'yes and no.' After that, you hired a killer to take the real Steve out for a walk.

"During that time, they pushed him into the river and drowned him. That way, you had your alibi, and you could take over his assets completely while still maintaining the image of a loyal, devoted partner."

She continued, "But you made one mistake. You forgot he had his ID on him. When our officers went to your home, they happened to see the fake Steve. You panicked and claimed his ID had been stolen."

My throat felt like it was sealed shut with cement. I couldn't utter a word.

Hayley stood up. There was both pity and certainty in her eyes. "Until you give a statement, we will detain you in accordance with the law."

The next three days were like hell. Every day, Hayley came in with Steve. She used yes-or-no questions she came up with to weave an inescapable net around me.

All the evidence pointed at me, accusing me of abduction, contract killing, and tampering with a corpse.

I explained and denied everything, yet no one chose to believe me. I didn't have dissociative identity disorder or selective amnesia, and I definitely hadn't killed anyone.

But why did the person who never lied accuse me?

At some point, I even started doubting myself. Was there another me out there who did all of this without my knowledge?

It wasn't until the third day, during yard time, that I saw a news report playing on the television. Then, the answer struck me. I finally figured it out.

My scalp went numb. I rushed to the iron gate and shouted with all my strength, "Hayley! Hayley, I finally found out what's going on! We've all been tricked!"

I slammed my head against the iron bars until I finally got her attention.

"Are you insane?" Hayley snapped.

"I need to see Steve!"

I grabbed her arm tightly, my eyes bloodshot. "I only have one question! After that, everything will finally make sense!"

She stared at me for a full ten seconds before finally nodding. She led me into the interrogation room, where Steve was already seated.

Behind the one-way mirror, several officers were staring at us intently. Steve still looked as wooden and dull as ever, like a lifeless puppet.

I took a deep breath and walked up to him. Bending down close to his ear, I asked him a question, "Steve…"

The moment I finished asking, his entire body stiffened. He looked at me with a kind of fear that seemed to come from the very depths of his bones.

Then, he started to struggle violently, almost instinctively. Even with handcuffs on, he fought so hard that his wrists were rubbed raw and bleeding.

His lips trembled uncontrollably, but in the end, he forced out a firm answer. "Yes!"

I took my seat, a smug smile now hanging on my lips. "So, that's it. You've lost."