“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t be anyone…”
Their evasive expressions made it clear they weren’t telling the truth.
“This is a homicide! A human life is at stake!” The officer’s tone turned stern.
Finally, the dean hesitantly admitted:
“Three years ago, a young lecturer named Emily Carter disappeared… she was twenty-seven at the time…”
“Why didn’t you report it back then?” the officer barked.
“Because Ms. Carter was already an adult, and we thought she had left on her own out of shame. This was humiliating for the school, so President Richard Miller ordered us not to publicize it… He said school scandals should not be exposed.”
The Head of Security was drenched in sweat, fumbling for excuses.
Still clinging to a shred of hope, he glanced at the remains.
“This… this might not be Emily, right?”
Just then, the forensic team picked up a damaged badge with tweezers.
“A faculty ID was found next to the body. The victim is indeed Lecturer Emily Carter.”
The Head of Security’s face turned ashen, too terrified to speak again.
Floating in the air, I sighed bitterly.
After three years, the truth of my death was finally exposed.
It was pitiful, really. My mother, Margaret, had died early.
My father, Thomas, remarried and ignored me completely.
For three whole years, he never noticed my absence, never wondered if something had happened to me.
To him, it was simply easier not to be bothered.
If the flood hadn’t destroyed the track, I might have remained underground, unknown forever.
When my name was announced, the crowd erupted in shocked exclamations.
“Ah! It’s her?”
“Wasn’t Ms. Carter the one who supposedly seduced the president for promotion? After he rejected her, she left in disgrace… yet she’s been buried under the athletic field all along?”
“Hmph! I said it back then—Ms. Carter wasn’t that kind of woman. There had to be more to her disappearance. Maybe she was killed by that son-in-law!”
“Shhh! Keep your voice down—you want to get expelled?”
“Expelled, so be it! I can’t stand that Daniel Brooks! Youngest professor? More like a wolf in sheep’s clothing!”
“It must have been him. He killed her so he could marry the president’s daughter!”
My soul drifted away, floating into the research building, to a third-floor office.
There sat my former fiancé, Daniel Brooks, appearing serious at his desk.
But just beyond the desk was a far more scandalous scene—