The Price of Blind Trust and Cruel Coldness Chapter 06
He knew that ring all too well.
Engraved on the inner band were the initials TB & JL.
He’d bought it from a secondhand market on our
wedding day. I’d worn it faithfully for seven whole years.
“Where… where did this come from?” Thomas’s voice trembled. “Did Jennifer track down something this grotesque just to frame me?”
Detective Chandler folded his arms atop the table, his gaze sharp as a blade.
“Thomas, how long are you going to keep lying to
yourself? Forensic scientists are rushing to run a DNA
comparison on that severed arm. Once those results
come back, you will be charged with murder.”
Thomas shot abruptly to his feet. His chair crashed backward against the floor with a deafening bang. “That’s impossible! She was throwing a fit onstage
only yesterday! How could she be hacked to pieces by today?”
He paced frantically around the interrogation room like a rabid beast. “I need to see Willa! She can testify
for me. This is all one of Jennifer’s elaborate ploys to gain sympathy!”
In the interrogation room next door, Willa dissolved
into messy, tearful sobs, clutching a crumpled tissue tightly in her grasp. “Sir, I truly don’t know anything.
Jennifer was perfectly alive during yesterday’s show.”
The female officer jotted down notes with a blank, impassive expression. “Are you certain she was still alive then?”
Willa shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely! She must have left somewhere on her own afterward.”
I hovered above the interrogation rooms, watching the ugly faces of these two people. Hatred roiled within me, boundless and suffocating.
The door creaked open. The younger officer stepped inside and leaned in to whisper something into Detective Chandler’s ear.
Detective Chandler’s expression darkened instantly. He turned toward Thomas. “Thomas, the results are in.”
Thomas froze mid–step, staring fixedly at him.
Detective Chandler stood up, his tone heavy. “We just received a call from the hospital. Your mother–in–law
survived emergency treatment; she is out of critical condition. But we also have the expedited forensic report.”
Detective Chandler slid an official stamped document across the table. “The victim is Jennifer Black,”
A suffocating silence descended over the interrogation
room. Thomas stood rooted to the spot, his mouth hanging agape.
on top of everything else, skin split open, pale flesh streaked with bruise–dark purple.
Thomas’s smile froze solid. His eyes locked onto the ring. He swallowed hard, his throat tight. Strength drained out of his legs all at once. He stumbled forward, staggering against the autopsy table.
He reached out to touch the ring, then jerked his hand back as if burned by electricity.
“It can’t be real…” Panic leaked uncontrollably into his voice. “This is fake… it’s just a silicone prop…”
He spun around abruptly and roared into the empty morgue. “Jennifer! Get out here right now! Do you think a fake arm is enough to scare me?”
Only the low hum of exhaust fans answered him. I floated near the ceiling, watching him unravel with cold detachment.
Detective Chandler stepped forward and held up a
crime–scene photograph. “We recovered evidence of desperate struggle inside the crevices of the magic
crate. Her fingernails were all broken and torn off as
she clawed frantically against the metal walls.”
Thomas’s pupils constricted violently. He stared at the
image of bloodied broken nails. Memories of the magic show flashed through his mind.
Jennifer trapped inside the crate. Several violent shakes had rippled through the box.
Willa had laughed and said Jennifer was playing along perfectly. It had been her screaming, hopeless cries in the darkness.
A wave of overwhelming nausea surged up his throat.
Thomas dropped to his knees and vomited violently into a trash bin, tears and snot streaking his face.
His defensive facade shattered completely.
He finally understood: Jennifer was truly dead.