I twirled the autopsy scalpel in my hand as I approached Valarie.

“I’ve told you, Mavis did not take her own life!

“Mr. Elkin, I’ve given you the opportunity. Whether or not your daughter stays in one piece falls to you. After all, this could get very messy, very fast.”

I would always remember Davin’s dismissive attitude when my seventh appeal was rejected.

I screamed frantically, “This evidence was found on Mavis herself! It’s more than enough to prove a crime was committed! Seven times! I did the autopsy myself seven times. If this isn’t enough, what other evidence would possibly satisfy you?!”

Davin merely glanced at me calmly. He said in a cold and ruthless tone, “Ms. Lance, given your mother-daughter relationship with Mavis, the materials you’ve provided may have been intentionally fabricated. They are insufficient to serve as evidence of deliberate harm.”

His words made it perfectly clear that no matter how many times I appealed, it would be useless.

Even my own lawyer shook his head helplessly at me and said, “Ms. Lance, just accept it.”

Accept it?

How could I? Every time I thought of Mavis’ face, I just could not accept it.

When they watched me move in to make a cut, everyone in the room drew sharp, horrified breaths.

Portia’s legs gave way. She dropped to her knees and begged me. “Please... don’t hurt my child.”

Then, she turned to Davin, shoving him and urging him to act fast. “Get them to release the evidence now, or Valarie will die!”

Davin frowned. He took a deep breath and said, “Ms. Lance, how many times do I have to say it? Mavis killed herself—”

Before he could finish, I had already severed one of Valarie’s ears. Blood streamed from the cut.

Though drugged unconscious, Valarie’s body jolted violently from the pain.

I spoke coldly, “That leaves six more chances.”

Seeing that I was serious, everyone panicked.

Portia nearly fainted from terror. She screamed hysterically, “You maniac! Don’t you touch my child! She’s innocent!”

Davin looked frantic. His eyes were already welling up with tears as he hurriedly called his superiors at the prosecutor’s office.

The police scrambled to locate my position.

Unfortunately for them, they could not find me.

I had used an account registered with an overseas ID. They would not trace my location for a while.

During the wait, the barrage of comments was filled with hate.

[She’s pure evil. She deserves to go to hell!]

[Why isn’t she dead already?]

[What are the police even doing? Arrest this psychopath now!]

...

Countless netizens wished me a terrible death, but I did not care.

I would do anything to clear Mavis’ name.

Moreover, they did not know my secret.

I ignored them. After ten minutes, Davin publicly presented the evidence they had gathered in the live stream.

I barely glanced at it before turning around and cutting off Valarie’s thumb.

“You have five chances left.”

I had seen the evidence Davin presented a hundred times. It all pointed to Mavis having died by suicide.

I remained unconvinced.

Those so-called pieces of evidence were nothing but carefully fabricated lies. Their flimsy veils failed to hide the truth.

I continued moving the scalpel lightly along Valarie’s arm, leaving a shallow, bleeding trail.

“Mr. Elkin, you know very well this isn’t what I asked for.”

My voice was ice-cold as I said sharply, “I want the real murderer. I want the evidence that he assaulted my daughter. I want the evidence you’ve been hiding. Stop wasting my time with this nonsense, or next time, I’ll take more than a finger.”

Davin’s face instantly turned pale, but he still refused to yield.

“This is the evidence! It proves Mavis killed herself!”

Portia threw herself toward the camera, her cries raw and desperate.

“You’re insane! Let my child go! We gave you the evidence! What more do you want?!”

Watching her lose all composure, I let out a bleak laugh.

“We’re both mothers. You can’t stand to see your child hurt, and I can’t stand to see my daughter’s death go unanswered.”

The livestream’s comment section erupted once more.

[The evidence is right there. She just refuses to see it.]

[She’s completely delusional.]

[We have laws for a reason. Facts are facts. What’s her problem?]

The online abuse grew even fiercer than before, but I ignored them all.

All I saw was the truth that refused to surface and the image of my daughter, who had died unjustly.

Every second that passed was a slow death for my heart and a countdown for another piece of Valarie.

The third time, they still tried to fool me with fake evidence.

I knew they were stalling for time while trying to find a way to deal with me. I would not give them that chance.

My resolve hardened. I directly severed the tendons in Valarie’s wrist.

“I have all day to play this game, Mr. Elkin. But your daughter doesn’t.

“So tell me, are you really going to throw away your own daughter to protect a murderer?”

Davin choked at my words. His body shuddered as his hanging hands clenched into tight fists.

Portia was already unconscious.

The police were still trying to persuade me. They even brought out my mentor, Gabriel Edwards.

Gabriel stood before the camera. His clouded eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“Fable, you’re a voice for the people. How could you turn on them? I know you are grieving for Mavis, but listen to me. Don’t do this.”

I looked at Gabriel, who had once cared for me like I was own daughter. My heart ached.

He was the one who had performed Mavis’ autopsy, yet he had concealed the truth.

“Gabriel, you watched Mavis grow up. How could you cut her open and not feel anything? Why did you help them cover it up?”

I could not understand why everyone was helping to hide the murderer.

Gabriel sighed. “Fable, Mavis did take her own life. I’m not lying. The police aren’t lying, and neither are the prosecutor’s office or the judge!”

After speaking, he exchanged a glance with Davin and called someone in from the door.

He then continued, “Mavis killed herself because she was depressed. We have a witness.”

I gasped when a girl emerged on the monitor.

That girl was Mavis’ best friend, Raelyn Conner.

In front of everyone, Raelyn said, “Ms. Lance, I can testify. Mavis was depressed. She’d talked about hurting herself before.”

Her words made my body turn stiff.

I was in disbelief. It took me a long moment to regain my senses.

I stared at Raelyn. Her expression held a trace of evasiveness. My chest tightened with a sharp, suffocating pain.

How could Mavis’ best friend stand here and give false testimony? Raelyn often came to my home for meals and shared a bed with Mavis to talk about everything.

Just the day before the incident, Mavis had excitedly told me she and Raelyn had gotten into the same university. They had already made plans to visit Bencraft Castle and try the local pizza in Nexopolis once the semester began.

Mavis had sounded excited when she told me this. How could a person who looked so cheerful suffer from depression and have suicidal thoughts?

“Raelyn,” I said as my hands were trembling, but I tried to keep calm.

“Look at me and tell me the truth. When did Mavis ever say she was depressed? Did she ever see a therapist? Do you have any proof?”

Raelyn averted my gaze. She said in a soft voice, “Before the SATs, Mavis was scared she wouldn’t get into a university in Nexopolis. She was worried she’d disappoint you. She said the pressure was too much, and that life felt pointless.”

“Nonsense!”

I abruptly raised my voice and cut Raelyn off.

“Mavis was a straight-A student. Getting into a university in Nexopolis was everything to her. Why would she stress over it? You’re lying! Who put you up to this? The murderer? Mr. Elkin? Or maybe...”

I paused. I shifted my gaze to Gabriel and asked, “My wonderful mentor?”

Raelyn shook her head and pulled an envelope from her pocket.

She opened it and took out a piece of paper.

“Ms. Lance, no one forced me. Mavis really did take her own life. Here’s her note.”

Raelyn unfolded Mavis’ note and held it up close to the camera for me to see.

[Mom, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.]

My heart ached as I stared fixedly at the note.

The handwriting on the note was indeed Mavis’, and the police had verified it.

For a moment, I wavered.

Was Mavis truly depressed? Did she really take her own life? Had I failed to notice she was mentally ill?

In my dazed state, I saw one sentence within the note.

That single sentence made me finally understand why Mavis’ death had been ruled a suicide.