My father disappeared. The day after I reported him missing, I received his severed hand. Soon after, his body was found. My father's mistress and my boyfriend were listed as suspects. Betrayed by those closest to me, I cried uncontrollably in public, but deep down, I was secretly smiling. They didn't know yet—I was the one who killed him! … My father’s secretary called to tell me he was missing. I was out of town, but I rushed back that night to my father's house. I pushed the door open. The whole house was dark and silent. A gust of wind whistled past my ear with a low moan, making my heart pound. I quickly fumbled for the light switch in the entryway. The light flooded a scene of chaos. Ceramic shards littered the floor, along with scattered fruit and splatters of blood. My legs gave out, and I collapsed, hands trembling as I pulled out my phone to call 911. Twenty minutes later, the police arrived. They put up yellow tape, then, fully geared up, entered the living room to process the scene. "Detective Evans," I asked, my voice shaking, "my dad... he's going to be okay, right?" "Ms. Miller," Detective Evans said, "we can't be sure yet. But rest assured, we'll do everything we can to find your father. Once we're done here, please check if anything valuable is missing." After the police finished their initial sweep, I put on shoe covers and gloves and started checking for missing items. "Are you sure nothing's gone?" Detective Evans asked later. I shook my head. "Besides what's broken on the floor... there's a safe missing. Nothing else seems to be gone." "Alright. Please come with us to the station to give a formal statement." 2 At the police station, I took a sip of water, trying to calm myself. "Okay, I'm ready." Detective Evans started. "Your name, please?" "Sarah Miller." "Who is the missing person? And what is your relationship to him?" "The missing person is Steven Miller. He's my father." "When did he go missing?" "I don't know exactly. When I got back from my business trip, the house was like this. I called his secretary, who said Dad hadn't shown up for work since April 21st." "You didn't contact him while you were away?" "My dad's usually very busy, and I was busy with the trip too, so we didn't talk much." Later, the police asked for my father's personal information and details about his social circle. I answered everything. Finally, I asked anxiously, "My father was always kind to people. How could he just disappear?" Tears started streaming down my face as I spoke. Detective Evans told me to try and stay calm, then continued, "When was the last time you saw your father?" "The last time was two days before I left for my trip. That was April 15th." Detective Evans looked up at me. "You remember the date clearly, Ms. Miller." I gave a bitter smile. "That day was the anniversary of my mother's death. I went to ask Dad to visit her grave with me, but he said he didn't have time." Recalling that day, something clicked. "Oh, Detective Evans, on the anniversary, Dad said he was busy because he thought there were problems with the company finances. He was looking into it. Isn't it strange that he disappeared right after saying he was auditing the books?" Finally, Detective Evans asked for a detailed account of my activities from the day of my mother's anniversary until I called the police, and exactly what I saw when I returned home... When I finished my statement and left the interrogation room, my boyfriend, Jake, was standing outside. Seeing him, my nose stung, and tears welled up again. Jake immediately pulled me into a hug, his face full of concern. "Sarah, don't be scared. I'm here. I'll be with you through this. Your dad will come back safe." I couldn't speak, just sobbed into his chest. After a moment, I pulled away, wiped my nose and eyes, and said, "You should go in now." Both my boyfriend, Jake, and the company's finance manager, Linda, had been asked to come to the station for questioning. Linda arrived while I was waiting for Jake on a bench in the station lobby. Seeing me, she spoke with undisguised sarcasm, "Still here, Assistant Manager Miller? You should be getting some rest, planning for the future, you know." "The future? What are you talking about?" Her snide tone made my anger flare up. "Oh, nothing. Just concerned about you, that's all." I was about to retort when the interrogation room door opened. Jake walked out, looking dejected. As soon as he saw me, he rushed over. "Sarah, you have to believe me! I was home the entire time you were gone. I didn't go anywhere." It sounded like he didn't have an alibi and was worried. I tried to soothe him. "Can anyone verify that? Or is there security footage showing you didn't leave the house?" Jake sighed heavily. He said he was alone at home, and the security cameras outside his apartment building had been broken those few days. He gripped my hand. "I was really at home, Sarah. I was just playing video games the whole time. I didn't go anywhere." My voice turned cold. "Playing video games?" Jake's eyes darted away. His lips turned pale, and he stammered, unable to say anything more. I looked at him, utterly disappointed. Before my trip, he told me he'd found a job. While I was away, he kept texting me about how he was adjusting to the new work. Turns out... he was lying to me the whole time. "Jake, you really disappoint me!" Linda watched the drama between us like a spectator at a play, let out a small, mocking laugh, and then sashayed into the interrogation room. I didn't want to see Jake anymore either. I went back to the apartment I owned downtown. 3 Once home, I called Mr. Davis, my lawyer, asking him to follow up on the case at the police station. After hanging up, I collapsed onto the sofa, not wanting to move an inch. So much had happened in the last two days; I was completely exhausted. Just as I was drifting off, the sound of the keypad lock jolted me awake. My dad had just disappeared, and I was living alone now. Panic started to set in. My eyes were glued to the door, fear tightening around my neck like invisible hands. Click. The door opened. My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. A familiar figure appeared outside—I instantly relaxed. It was Jake. Jake looked at me, concerned. "Sarah, are you okay? You look really pale." I was still angry with him. "What's it to you?!" "Sarah, you need to take care of yourself, otherwise..." He trailed off. "If you have something to say, say it. If not, get out!" Jake seemed to make up his mind. He was about to speak: "Sarah..." Buzz, buzz... My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Davis. Ignoring Jake, I answered. "Mr. Davis?" I listened quietly to his update, then just said, "Okay," and hung up. Seeing me hang up, Jake immediately asked, "What did Mr. Davis say?" "That has nothing to do with you. What did you want to say?" For the first time since he walked in, Jake looked me straight in the eye, his expression earnest. "I wanted to tell you, when I first got close to you, it was because..." Ding-dong! The doorbell rang again, cutting Jake off mid-sentence.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392429", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel