It was as if she were striking someone she had hated her whole life; her brutality was chilling, far beyond savage.
Even in death, Dad, my brother and Grandma wore frozen expressions of pain and disbelief.
Their eyes remained wide open, clouded with confusion, as if they had died without understanding why, unable to rest in peace.
Only after making sure all three were completely lifeless did Mom turn and leave the house, calm and satisfied.
But before stepping out the door, she looked straight at the surveillance camera, deep, deliberate.
I swallowed my grief and kept replaying that video again and again.
From sunrise to sundown, from the first bloom of spring to the coldest depths of winter.
For three long years, I didn’t take a single step beyond that threshold.
My entire world had shrunk to a screen, the footage looping endlessly, haunting every second of my life.
During that time, Dorian Wolfe came every day to check on me.
He had been my boyfriend since our police academy days.
“Rosalie, I’ve tried everything these past three years, but I still haven’t found your mom,” he said gently.
“I know you want to find the truth, but if the entire task force couldn’t solve this case, how can you do it alone?”
“They’ve already decided to close it. You should let it go, too. In this case, it’s impossible.”
He placed the food in front of me, his voice low, almost pleading, as if hoping I’d finally listen.
Back when we studied at the police academy, Dorian and I had shared a bond that felt unbreakable.
When I dropped out, he followed without hesitation, with no questions and no complaints.
For the past three years, while I locked myself away from the world, he came by every single day, comforting me and tending to me like I was the last thing that mattered.
At first, he sat beside me through day and night, combing through the case, hoping to uncover something we missed.
But time dragged on.
Three years slipped through our fingers and the case remained a riddle wrapped in shadows.
Mom had disappeared as if the earth itself had swallowed her whole.
People kept telling me, over and over again, "Let it go. Your mom’s just a heartless killer. Digging won’t change the truth."
But I couldn’t let it go.
None of it made sense.
Why would she do something like that?
She adored my brother.
She loved Dad deeply.
She was closer to Grandma than any daughter could be.
Why on earth would she kill them?
That question kept gnawing at me day after day.
It clouded my thoughts and darkened every breath.
Deep down, I felt something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
So, I kept watching the surveillance footage.
Again and again.
Searching for even the tiniest slip, the faintest clue.
Hoping the truth would finally crack through the silence.
Just as Dorian urged me once again to give up, a sudden flash of clarity struck while I stared at the replay.
My eyes lit up as the clouds had finally parted.
I shot to my feet and shouted, breathless with excitement, “I know the truth now!”
Dorian snapped to attention. “What is it?” he asked at once.
But instead of answering, I swerved sharply. “Let’s get married.”
He froze, clearly taken aback.
“Why are you bringing up marriage all of a sudden? What does that have to do with your mom’s case?”
Over the past three years, he had watched me close myself off from the world because of that case.
He had brought up marriage more than once, wanting to become a family so he could look after me.
But I turned him down every time.
He knew that until the case was solved, I couldn’t think of anything else.
So, hearing me suggest it now. It stunned him. And it made him curious.
I met his gaze squarely and said, voice firm, “Don’t ask too much for now. Just make sure news of our marriage gets out and spread far and wide. Invite influencers, reporters and anyone you can. When the time comes, you’ll understand everything.”
Dorian looked into my eyes for a long beat, searching my face.
Then he gave a solid nod. “Alright.”
