I clenched my fists. My heart felt like it was in my throat. The red Mustang stepped into the gas and still didn't catch the green light.
At this time, Vilhelmina began to walk the crosswalk and the accident of the truck should be parallel without intersection. But the red Mustang suddenly accelerated through the red light. The truck in order to avoid quickly turning the front and out of control. Then the truck hit Vilhelmina on the zebra cross.
It turned out that the murderer who killed her daughter was Maximilian Kostomarov.
I realized that Vilhelmina should have seen his father's car. So she wanted to go over. It made her not think that his father would miss the work time and rushed back to the hospital clock.
In the video, Vilhelmina's body was hit and flew up. She rolled under the wheels of the truck and was crushed several times. The red Mustang was riding so fast that it had no idea what was happening behind it.
Across the table, the driver of the truck covered his face. He cried out in pain. I stared at the black screen of the tablet with a dull expression. Until the police officer tapped me on the shoulder.
He reassured me of my condolences. I touched my face, not a single tear. My heart was empty as if a piece had been ripped out of it.
“We will send more people to find the owner of this red Mustang, Mrs Arabelle.”
I replied, “Don't bother, I know who he is.”
“Who is it?”
“My husband, Maximilian Kostomarov. He is also the biological father of the victim, Vilhelmina Kostomarov.”
The policeman was stunned for a long time. “As a relative of Vilhelmina Kostomarov, we have to ask your opinion as a rule.”
I answered, “How the law is set, just do what you guys do. Don't need to consider my relationship with the perpetrator. You also don't need to tell him the identity of the victims.”
***
That night, while my husband, Maximilian, had not yet returned home, I began to pack my bags. The doorbell suddenly rang. It was the postman, who came to deliver the package. I opened it to find that it was a children's book. Two months ago, Vilhelmina secretly told me the truth.
Vilhelmina said, “Mom, the essay I wrote was selected and the teacher said it would be published in the next issue of Sunrise.”
Her little face was full of pride at that moment. Meanwhile, I was so happy and grateful.