My grandma didn't have Stephen's contact information, nor did she know where he lives.

But she knew that a murder happened, and it was the forensic doctor who was responsible for the autopsy.

And Stephen was the forensic doctor.

So, she used the simplest method: calling the police.

When the police saw my dismembered body, they couldn't bear to look.

My face was severely corroded by sulfuric acid, and my features were completely unrecognizable.

My limbs were dismembered, the blood had long dried up, and the dismembered body had started to decay, emitting a strong stench.

But it was wiped clean and neatly placed on the flower bedsheet I used when I was a child, which was very eerie.

The police immediately set up a cordon after such a horrific dismemberment case.

They searched inside and outside the room, conducted luminol tests, but there was no significant fluorescence reaction, proving that this was not a dismemberment scene.

Nor was it the spot of dumping.

This horrific disfigurement and dismemberment case has left the citizens in panic.

Everyone speculated that a sadistic killer had emerged.

Some even cursed that I, this wicked woman, would be quickly tortured and killed by this sadistic killer.

My grandmother was taken back to the police station along with my dismembered body.

The police attached great importance to this case and quickly formed a task force.

The most important thing in this type of case was to find the source of the body and confirm the identity of the deceased.

And my dismembered body, for some reason, seemed to be carefully taken care of by my grandma.

The police speculated that the deceased had a special meaning to her, most likely a relative.

But when faced with the police's questioning, grandma's withered hand tightly held onto her clothes and consistently refused to answer.

The police who visited near her house learned that she was a lonely old woman.

Her son was a rogue and had divorced long ago, and died three years ago.

The daughter-in-law and granddaughter also unfortunately passed away three years ago.

She usually relied on picking up some scrap and the care of social workers to make a living.

There were no relatives or close people who matched the age of the body.

When the police were helpless, my grandma finally spoke.

She was willing to disclose the location where the body was dumped, but she requested to meet forensic doctor Stephen.

My soul drifted involuntarily to the dissecting room.

Stephen, wearing a white coat and a strong cold light on his head, solemnly bowed to my body in front of the stainless steel dissecting table.

Then, he pieced my broken body together, bit by bit.

This was the first time I had entered the dissecting room and seen him at work.

Focused, serious, and sacred.

And I, on his dissecting table, about to be dissected.

He carefully placed the completely unrecognizable head on the just assembled body, as gently as he had tucked my broken hair behind my ear years ago.

He checked while the assistant recorded.

"Deceased, female, aged 23 to 28. Based on the degree of decomposition of the body, the estimated time of death is 8-12 days ago."

"There are signs of life at the wound. The deceased was dismembered while still alive..."

The assistant sighed, "It's really pitiful. How much hatred must the deceased have to endure such torture at such a young age."

He said, frowning, seemingly lamenting the fact that such a young person died so tragically.

He picked up a gleaming surgical knife, size 24, and cut straight into the middle of my neck. The blade slid, cutting open the chest and abdomen.

"The victim's head was repeatedly struck with a blunt object, causing severe brain damage."

"The face was corroded by strong acid... with signs of plastic surgery..."

"There are multiple binding injuries and stab wounds all over the body... The victim endured a long period of inhumane torture before death."

"And the stomach contents... cement!"

The assistant next to him almost screamed.

"What a sicko! Killing someone is not enough. How much hatred and resentment must there be to torture the victim like this, pouring cement into their stomach..."

Stephen carefully picked out a torn and corroded piece of paper from my stomach contents.

"There are words on it, there may be clues, send it to the forensic science department for examination immediately!"

The assistant wondered, "What kind of person and under what circumstances, would swallow paper into their stomach?"

I looked at the paper ball that I had swallowed into my stomach, feeling very nervous.

Could the writing on it really be restored?

Is my secret going to be exposed to the public? I thought.

After Stephen dissected, he skillfully sutured the abdominal cavity.

However, it would take a long time to repair my face and sew up my severed limbs.

At this moment, a young police officer rushed over anxiously.

"Mr. Green, the old woman who found the body insists on seeing you before revealing the location where the body was dumped. Do you know her? Is there any connection between you and the deceased?"

Stephen's breath paused, and his whole body stiffened.

"What did you say?"

He stared at the body on the dissecting table, his hand holding the surgical knife trembling slightly, with a complex expression that I couldn't understand.

After a while, he put down the surgical knife and hurriedly rushed out.

Even though I knew deep down that my body had become so decayed that I couldn't even recognize myself, how could he possibly recognize me?

But I couldn't help but feel nervous.

We have been in love for seven years, so he naturally knew my figure very well.

Would he... recognize me?

Please, don't recognize me... I thought.

When Stephen saw my grandma, he seemed a bit dazed and lost.

He had seen her once before, but at that time, she was still a spirited and smiling old lady.

But she in front of him was hunched over, skinny, and lifeless all over.

He seemed to recognize it, but he didn't dare to admit it.

At the moment when Stephen appeared, my grandma suddenly stood up and looked into his eyes, which were turbid, red, and filled with complex emotions.

After a long time, she finally calmed down and pleaded,

"Mr. Green, I am Betty's grandmother. I would like to ask you for a favor."

Hearing my name, Stephen's face darkened.

The police leaned close to his ear and whispered.

He frowned, his face filled with disgust towards me. "What favor?"

Seeing him loosen up, Grandma hurriedly said, "Please, Mr. Green, let me see Nana, can I?"

Stephen suddenly became furious. "It was her who sent you, right! That kind of woman, how is she worthy of mentioning Nana.!"

"It's been three years, and she is still so malicious! She even wants to use innocent victims. She is simply unworthy of being human!"

He thought that I had seen his interview video and learned that his legs had healed, and that he had escaped from the mental hospital and wanted to get even with me.

So deliberately using my grandma who found the body, to make trouble, play tricks, and force him to let me see Nana.

My grandma was so anxious that her eyes turned red. Her tone was almost pleading. "Please, give me a photo of Nana! Please..."

Stephen turned his face away, unmoved.

"Tell her to come and confess to me in person. I want her to kneel in front of my parents' memorial tablet and repent for her mistakes!"

My grandma was stunned for a moment and wiped away her tears.

"Betty... she can't come to see you, Mr. Green..."

Stephen coldly snorted, "Can't come? After what she did to me, I don't think she has the face to come!"

My grandma's face was haggard, her dry and cracked lips moved as she spoke, filled with pleas.

"Mr. Green, Betty... she has her reasons, please don't blame her..."

Stephen sneered, "Her reasons? Well! What kind of reason could make her betray the Green family and kill my parents!"

"And What kind of reason could make her lock me and Nana in a mental hospital, depriving us of our freedom for three whole years?"

My grandma clutched her chest in pain, trembling all over.

Stephen's voice was as cold as ice, "I wish she were dead! Even if she died a thousand times, it wouldn't make up for the harm she has done to our family!"

Upon hearing the word "dead", my grandma was stunned for a moment, tears streaming down her face as she stammered,

"My Betty... she's dead... she can never come back..."

"That corpse, it's her..."

Stephen suddenly froze, looking at her in disbelief.

After a while, a cold smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, what tricks is Betty Gordon playing now? After using a dead person, she's now pretending to be dead?"

"Tell her, it's better for her to really die. Otherwise, even if I dig three feet into the ground, I will dig her out and make her pay for what she has done!"

After saying that, he turned around and left.

My grandma looked at his back, hunched over, her thin shoulders trembling violently, her voice filled with sorrow:

"Betty really had her reasons..."

My heart ached.

I wanted to reach out and hug my crying grandma, but my hands passed through her body.

It was only then that I realized, I was dead.

I can't do anything anymore...

The policewoman helped my grandma up. After a long time, she finally calmed down and told them about the abandoned garbage dump where I was discovered.

But it has been too long, and the killer had a strong anti-investigation awareness, leaving no clues at all.

My grandma was excluded from the suspicion of murder and corpse disposal, and was educated. She found the body and should protect the scene and immediately call the police, and then she was sent back home.