It was a severed hand.

Cleanly cut at the wrist, the flesh had turned a bruised, blackish-purple, and fluid was oozing from the edges.

It looked like maggots were already writhing around the wound. The horrific stench and the dark fluid were all coming from this.

My mind went totally blank, and with a sharp scream, I hurled the box away.

The thing rolled out onto the floor, giving me a much clearer view.

It belonged to a woman. A ring was clutched on its ring finger, and the knuckles were frozen in a horrific curl, as if it had been hacked off while the person was still alive.

My immediate instinct was to find Alayna. With trembling fingers, I scrambled for my phone and dialed her number.

Once. Twice. Three times.

No one answered.

The repetitive ringing echoed through the empty house, making the surrounding silence feel deafening.

My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it would burst out of my throat.

Crying, I kept redialing the number. "Alayna, pick up… Come on…"

Until finally, the automated operator cut in. "The number you have dialed is switched off."

The sudden realization jolted me back to reality, forcing a shred of logic back into my panicked mind.

I stared fixedly at the severed hand as a million terrifying thoughts raced through my head.

The rot, maggots, and blackened flesh proved that this was absolutely not a prop.

Taking a ragged breath, I gave up on Alayna's phone and moved my finger to the dial pad, punching in 911.

The moment the call connected, I tried my best to steady my breathing, but my throat was so tight it throbbed with pain.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I need to report something! I think… the prank prop I have at home is a real human hand…"

The second the words left my mouth, I realized just how terrified I actually was.

My voice shook violently, and my tongue felt knotted. It took me several minutes just to make myself understood.

The dispatcher on the other end remained completely calm, instructing me to stay exactly where I was and not to touch a single thing. "Officers are already on their way to your location. Please keep the line open."

When the call ended, the house plunged back into a deathly stillness. This silence was far harder to endure than before.

It took me a long time just to gather the strength to crawl up from the floor, but my gaze kept darting toward the storage room.

I was terrified that something else might crawl out of the dark at any second.

To keep from losing my mind, I forced myself to stare blankly at a tissue box on the coffee table.

Every ticking second felt like an eternity.

If it weren't for this nightmare, I would be happily counting down the hours until Alayna came home. But now, my mind was consumed by suspicion and dread.

Finally, the doorbell rang. I flinched, my scattered thoughts instantly snapping back.

"Police, open up."

My legs were pure jelly as I rushed over to unlock the door.

Two uniformed officers, a man and a woman, stepped inside looking weary from the road.

The male officer, who looked fairly young, scanned the living room before addressing me in a gentle tone. "You're the caller, Mr. Charlie Collins, correct?"

I nodded frantically and stepped aside to let them in.

The female officer was already snapping on a pair of latex gloves, asking me where the object was.

"Over there." I pointed toward the storage room, my voice still cracking.

She walked over. The moment her eyes fell on the severed hand, her entire posture stiffened.

As she kneeled down to inspect it, the male officer tried to soothe me. "Try not to panic. You mentioned it's a prank prop. I know some of these items are made to look and smell incredibly realistic these days. We've dealt with false alarms like this before…"

But any hope of comfort was instantly shattered.

"It's not a toy," the female officer called out. "I can confirm this is a real human hand."

Her definitive words sent a violent chill running straight down my spine.

The female officer pulled out an evidence bag, carefully sealing the box and the severed limb into separate compartments.

Then, she turned her gaze back to me. My face was completely devoid of color.

"You haven't touched it, have you?" she asked.

"N-No!" I stammered, my voice shaking. "I called 911 the moment I realized something was wrong."

She nodded before turning to whisper a few instructions to her partner. The male officer nodded in understanding and ushered me to the side, while she stepped away to radio for backup and forensic teams.

"Take it easy," the male officer said. "Just tell me what happened from the beginning."

I took a shaky breath and walked him through the timeline and how I had stumbled upon the gruesome discovery.

As he listened to my fragmented explanation, his expression grew increasingly serious. "So, you're saying your wife brought this box home… on April Fool's Day?"

"Yes. She loves pranking me. She'd never miss an opportunity like that."

"And when did she leave for her business trip?"

"The day after April Fool's Day," I replied.

The two officers exchanged a quick look.

In that fraction of a second, my stomach plummeted, and a dreadful premonition twisted in my gut. "Is something wrong?"

The male officer didn't give me a straight answer. Instead, he asked me to point out every single spot where the box had been kept.

They took reference photos and strictly instructed me not to clean any other part of the house.

While they were working, the female officer took a call. She kept her voice incredibly low, but a few stray words still managed to drift over to me.

"...Surveillance… nobody… still haven't reached her…"

When she hung up, her face was visibly tenser than before.

"Charlie," she suddenly called me by my name. "Are you absolutely certain this box was brought into the house on April 1st?"

I froze for a moment and instinctively replied, "Yes, of course. She brought it home that evening. I even called her childish for it."

The male officer closed his notepad and looked at me intently. "Our colleagues just reviewed your neighborhood's security footage. The cameras show that absolutely no one entered your apartment on April 1st."

My brain went completely numb. "That's impossible! Alayna comes home every single day. How could the cameras not catch her? And she always brings home groceries for the next day's meals! All the vendors downstairs know that!"

Midway through my outburst, I realized something was off myself.

If Alayna hadn't come home, then who was the person who had spent the entire night with me?

The moment that thought crystallized, a violent jolt of terror shot through my body.

"No… No, that's impossible…" I began pacing back and forth, babbling incoherently. My nails dug frantically into the back of my hand, tearing the skin, but I didn't even feel the pain.

The two officers exchanged a subtle, wary glance.

The male officer stepped forward and gently caught my hands. "Hey, calm down. We're not saying we don't believe you. We've already dispatched a team to track down your wife. Right now, the priority is figuring out—"

The mention of Alayna sent my panic into overdrive. I gripped his hand tightly. "I called her so many times! She wouldn't answer! Then her phone went completely dead! Is my wife the killer—"

"Mr. Collins," the female officer interrupted firmly. "You need to calm down."

"How can I calm down? Where is the person that hand belongs to? Is she still alive? Was she murdered? Am I next?"

Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor, burying my head in my arms as my whole body convulsed with tremors.

Just then, the male officer held out a phone to me. A call was active on the screen.

I recognized the number instantly. It was Alayna.

From the speaker, a familiar voice drifted out. "Honey? I'm on my business trip. I've been stuck in back-to-back meetings all day. Don't be scared. The officer already explained everything to me…"

The moment I heard Alayna's voice, my tears cascaded down. My hands were still shaking, but the crushing weight on my chest suddenly vanished.

Thank God. Alayna wasn't a killer.

But just as I let out a breath of relief, I heard her speak to the officer on the line. "I've been away on this business trip since late March. I never brought home any gift."

A piercing cold swept up from the soles of my feet.

It wasn't her.

Then who was the person I had been intimate with? Was it actually possible to mistake a complete stranger for my wife? That face, that voice…

"Ms. Watson, the 3:00 pm meeting is about to start," Alayna's assistant called out in the background.

"Okay."

Alayna acknowledged her, then spoke back into the receiver, her tone laced with apology. "Officers, I really can't walk away from this right now. The moment this meeting wraps up, I'll book the earliest flight back to cooperate with the investigation.

"Honey, don't be scared. Do whatever the police tell you to do. Officer, please watch over my husband for me. Thank you."

The call disconnected.

I sat there frozen, her words looping relentlessly through my mind. "I never brought home any gift."

My phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the floor, but I didn't even process it.

As the officer bent down to retrieve it, I lunged forward and gripped his arm. "Officer… then who was the person in my house on April Fool's Day? She looked exactly like my wife. We…"

The words caught in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence.

The impostor had walked right into my home, shared my bed, and slept by my side.

Who on earth was she? What did she want? Was she the killer?

The male officer quickly supported my swaying shoulders. "Mr. Collins, for your own safety and to help us move this investigation forward, we need you to come down to the precinct with us right now."

Without a second thought, I agreed instantly.

Walking down the stairs of my building, I practically glued myself to the officers' sides, terrified that something was lurking right behind me.

I scrambled into the back of the police cruiser. Even with the midday sun beating down through the windows, I was shivering.

It wasn't until we reached the precinct and the harsh lights of the interrogation room beamed down on me that the warmth slowly returned to my limbs.

The male officer taking my statement was the same one who came to my house. His name was Ethan Newman.

"How long have you and Alayna been married? How would you describe your relationship?"

I blinked, confused as to why the questions were suddenly centering on my marriage.

Still, I followed his lead and replied, "Eight years. We've always been great. She takes care of me and handles everything around the house so I don't have to worry about a thing. Since I'm a freelancer and don't work a regular job, I don't go out much. I'm pretty dependent on her, and all our neighbors know it."

Ethan nodded before asking, "So do you think the person who impersonated her did a convincing job?"

"Yes," I said, my fingers mindlessly picking at my skin again. "Incredibly convincing. Her voice and even mannerisms were identical. We had a candlelit dinner that night, and the lighting was dim, so I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Officer, you have to find her! She must still be out there somewhere. It's too dangerous!"

Upon hearing this, Ethan suddenly fell silent. He stood up, walked around the table, and looked down at me with a piercing gaze.

"We expanded the perimeter of our surveillance search. Aside from the cameras directly outside your building, none of the traffic or street cameras in the entire surrounding area captured this woman you're describing. Instead, only footage of you coming and going was captured."

He paused, his tone shifting into something deeply solemn. "Are you absolutely certain someone else brought that box into your home, Charlie?"

I sat there entirely paralyzed, my brain completely short-circuiting.

"W-What do you mean?" I stammered. His words floated into my ears but failed to register in my mind.