The last time I went missing was a few years ago.

Back then, Winona had trapped me in an abandoned sports storeroom at school. It was in a remote area, so hardly anyone went there.

I screamed for help as loudly as I could, but all that answered was the echo of my own voice and the heavy silence. I remained there all night, only seeing daylight again the next morning when the school security guard found me.

When I returned home, Mom and Winona were enjoying breakfast at the dining table.

Taking in my disheveled, dust-covered appearance, Mom exploded. She snatched up a broom and began hitting me relentlessly.

No matter how much I tried to explain, not a word got through. She just kept beating me.

At the time, Grandma was still alive. I escaped to her house and tearfully recounted what had happened.

Utterly incensed, Grandma rushed back to the Langdon residence with me, determined to seek justice.

However, when confronted, all Mom said was, "Winnie didn't do it on purpose."

That sent Grandma into a rage. After she berated Mom harshly, Mom finally made Winona apologize to me.

Mr. Lintell's sigh dragged me back to the present. He didn't press the matter further, simply finished his cigarette and stubbed it out.

…

That afternoon, there was a new lead. The police had found the first crime scene—a dilapidated, unfinished building.

This news stirred the investigative team. They immediately prepared to process the scene.

As a forensic doctor, Mom was naturally an indispensable part of the team. Expression stern and focused, she changed into her gear and rushed toward the abandoned building with the others.

The instant they stepped out of their cars, a revolting stench assaulted them. It was so sharp and foul that many felt the urge to vomit.

I watched as Mom and the rest frowned, steeled themselves, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The interior was dim, and the nauseating smell was even thicker here. Stains mottled the walls, while trash and debris littered the ground. Most jarring, however, was the blood splattered everywhere.

Despite being a spirit with no physical body, I still found myself shaking at the ghastly sight.

The day I was kidnapped by my murderer, the skies had been dark and foreboding.

I had received a call from Winona. Her voice sounded exceptionally sincere as she told me that she had finally realized the error of her ways. To express her regret for all she had done over the years, she wanted to visit Grandma's grave and pay her respects.

At the time, I hadn't suspected a thing, thinking people could always turn over a new leaf. So, I agreed to meet her.

Upon arriving at the address she sent me, I saw that it was an abandoned factory in a remote part of the city. It was completely deserted, not a single soul in sight. All I could hear was the wind whistling.

I had barely stepped inside when a powerful force struck me from behind, knocking me unconscious.

As I slowly came to, I vaguely heard Winona talking with a man.

Her voice was firm, laced with a hint of smug delight. "Since I've tricked her here for you, you can get your revenge now. Don't bother me again after this."

The man frowned, seemingly displeased with her attitude. "Watch your mouth. If anything happens, don't blame me for what I'll do to you."

Winona waved a dismissive hand. "Relax. I want her dead even more than you do."

Once Winona was gone, he seemed to sense my consciousness. He stepped toward me and tilted my face up to meet his. His gaze was icy and unwavering, searching my eyes as if peeling back the layers of my very soul.

For a long while, he simply gazed at me. Then, he suddenly swung a fist into my face. The pain knocked the breath from my lungs. Following that, he brandished a small, curved dagger and dug out one of my eyes.

In that instant, I thought I would die. Sheer agony exploded through me until my vision finally surrendered to the dark.

Even when I fell unconscious from the pain, the man didn't stop. He used my phone to video-call Mom, wanting her to see the horrifying state I was in.

However, Mom rejected the call without any hesitation. When the man tried again, he discovered that my number had been blocked. He tossed my phone away with disdain; it shattered against the hard floor.

The next time I woke, it was to the man throwing a bucket of cold water over me.

Drenched to the bone, I shivered nonstop from the cold. I didn't know who this man was or why he was doing this to me. Nonetheless, I was in so much pain I couldn't make a sound. All I could do was silently endure the torture.

I didn't know how long I remained in the darkness before his voice rang out again. "Because of your father, I lost my son. All he did was steal some stuff—nothing too expensive. Was that crime deserving of death? The daughter will pay for the father's sins. In this case, you'll do."

With that, he picked up the dagger and began carving into my body, the blade mercilessly slicing into my flesh.

There were no words to describe the agony I was in. Though I felt I would go mad, I was helpless to fight back.

Eventually, the pain grew too much. My body shut down, growing numb. I simply waited quietly for death to claim me.

…

Mom was deeply focused on analyzing the crime scene when an urgent ringtone cut through the silence.

"Miriam, the DNA results are out…" Her assistant's voice came over the line, audibly shaking and rife with unease. "The victim… is your daughter, Samantha Langdon."

Each word struck Mom's heart like a sledgehammer. Her phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground, the screen seeming to dim.

At the same time, Mr. Lintell and her other colleagues also received the news.

The entire building was steeped in a silence so profound that one could hear a pin drop. It was as if the very air itself was holding its breath.

Mom looked as if all life had been sucked from her. She slumped to the floor, a vacant look in her eyes, muttering, "No, that's impossible. It can't be Samantha. How could it be her?"

Confusion and despair suffused her every word.

Suddenly, she seemed to recall something. She sprang to her feet and, with unsteady steps, charged toward the police station's evidence locker.

She searched frantically until she found the familiar bracelet. Turning it over, she scrutinized it carefully.

There, carved on the back of the pendant, was the name Samantha.