Chapter 9

<p>Chloe went to the police station. She wasn't there to argue, but to hand over some evidence.</p><p>She put my comb in a sealed bag, along with a handwritten note explaining the situation, and handed it all to Richard.</p><p>Richard's office was at the end of the third-floor hallway. It wasn't very big, and on the wall hung a map of Jinsolin, with seven or eight red pushpins stuck in it. "Is this Emily's comb?" he asked.</p><p>"She uses it every day. I didn't touch the hair on it. I don't know if this counts as a proper sample, but I really couldn't think of anything else," Chloe said. She sat on the metal stool across from him, her back ramrod straight.</p><p>Richard studied her for a long moment. "Did you talk to Emily's husband about this?"</p><p>"I did. He said Emily left on her own, so there's no point digging any deeper."</p><p>"He refused the DNA test?"</p><p>"He wouldn't even let me finish my words," Chloe said, her teeth sinking into her lip before she released it.</p><p>"Richard, I don't know if you believe me, but Emily isn't the kind of person who would vanish without saying anything. Even if we argued or she wanted a divorce, she'd talk to me about it. She would never ghost me like that," she added.</p><p>"When was the last time you heard from her directly?"</p><p>"A month and three days ago. She sent me a WhatsApp message saying she was heading out that night for something. I replied, 'Be careful,' but she never texted back. After that, she disappeared."</p><p>"Did she mention where she was going or who she was with?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Richard picked up the comb and held it up to the window light. Sure enough, there were a few long hairs tangled between the teeth.</p><p>"I can send it to the lab. But for a proper DNA match, we need either the family's consent or an official investigation to go ahead," he said.</p><p>"So you can't help, then?" Chloe asked.</p><p>"What I mean is, the official process takes time," Richard replied, setting the comb back on the desk. "But if I say it's for an active case, we can get the results back in three days."</p><p>Chloe shot to her feet. "Go ahead and send it."</p><p>"I need you to sign something," Richard said, pulling a form from his drawer.</p><p>Chloe reached for the pen to sign right away.</p><p>"Read it carefully before you sign. This is a statement that you're voluntarily providing a biological sample as a witness. Once you sign, this material can only be used for the investigation and won't be released to the public," Richard said.</p><p>"Got it," Chloe said, quickly scribbling her name and setting the pen down with a thud on the desk.</p><p>Richard put the form away and sealed the comb in a standard evidence bag. "Ms. Reed, let me ask you something."</p><p>"Go ahead."</p><p>"How are things between Winona and Emily?"</p><p>Chloe's mouth curved downward, as if she'd bitten into a lemon. "Do you want the sugarcoated version or the real deal?"</p><p>"The real deal," Richard replied.</p><p>"Emily hated her. But she never used the word 'hate' with anyone. I could tell," Chloe said. "Every time Winona's name came up, Emily would go silent.</p><p>"It's not that she didn't have anything to say. She only didn't want to talk about it anymore. When someone's been hurt so much that they don't even have the energy to complain, you know that's serious."</p><p>Richard didn't say anything. He locked the evidence bag in the bottom drawer of his desk. "I'll have the results for you in three days."</p><p>Chloe reached the door and then suddenly turned back. "Richard, do you already think there's something off about that body?"</p><p>"I don't have any suspicions."</p><p>"Then why are you helping me?"</p><p>Richard stood up, pushed his chair in, and walked over to the window. His neck gave a couple of soft cracks. "Picture this: a thirty-year-old woman, left wrist fractured, appendix removed, height and build almost identical to the missing person.</p><p>"And her husband was right upstairs, personally doing the autopsy for five days straight, and he couldn't tell it was her."</p><p>He paused. "It's not that I think there's something wrong with the body. It's that something about all this doesn't sit right with me."</p><p>After Chloe left, Richard took the evidence bag out of his drawer and slipped it into his briefcase.</p><p>He skipped the standard protocol for submitting evidence.</p><p>He grabbed his briefcase, headed downstairs, and drove to another accredited testing lab in the city. It wasn't part of the official forensic system.</p><p>I drifted in the back seat of his car. For the first time since I died, I felt like someone still cared about what happened to me.</p>