Chapter 4

From the third day to the seventh, Helen’s tiny remaining worry was completely replaced by the pure relief of having a quiet home.

The apartment had never been this neat and peaceful.

Helen didn't have to come home to a noisy child. To be honest, she didn't care where I was or what I was doing with that dumb dog.

She didn't have to buy clothes or shoes for me either.

She even realized she was saving hundreds of dollars a month.

On Friday, after getting her paycheck, she walked past a department store and found herself drawn inside.

Using the money she had originally set aside for my school fees, she bought a luxury designer lipstick she had never dared to buy before.

Back home, she stood before the mirror, clumsily applying the bright, vibrant red to her dry lips.

The woman in the glass suddenly looked younger, more alive.

John didn't say a word about it. To him, my absence was as simple as having one less plate to wash.

They never even considered calling the police.

When neighbors occasionally asked, they used the same pre-written script.

"She's just going through a rebellious phase. Staying with a school friend. She'll be back in a couple of days."

Together, they built a fragile, peaceful illusion. In this illusion, they were free parents, ready to start a beautiful new life.

But on the seventh night, that illusion was violently shattered by a heavy, urgent knock on the door.

Annoyed, John went to open it. Two police officers in uniform stood at the threshold, their faces grim.

"Are you John and Helen?"

"Yes, officers. Is there a problem?"

John froze, a bad feeling creeping up his spine.

"We need to verify some information."

The lead officer’s sharp eyes swept over the couple. "Do you have a daughter, about seven years old, named Lily?"

Helen’s heart seized. Clutching her new lipstick, she stood up, trembling.

"Yes... yes. She's just staying at a friend's house..."

The officer ignored her excuse and spoke in a cold, professional tone.

"This afternoon, we discovered the body of a young girl near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Based on the physical description, we believe it may be your daughter."

"That’s impossible!" John immediately snapped, his voice high-pitched.

The officer glared at him, his voice dropping an octave. "The body matches your daughter’s description perfectly.

For instance, she has a distinct red birthmark behind her right ear. Furthermore, we believe this is connected to a major child trafficking and illegal organ harvesting ring we've been tracking."

"What?"

Helen’s mind went entirely blank. Only the words "red birthmark" and "organ harvesting" echoed in her skull.

With a soft click, the luxury lipstick slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, snapping in half. The bright red tip smeared across the tile like a pool of fresh blood.

The color that had recently returned to her face drained completely, leaving her looking paler than a corpse.

Her lips trembled violently, but she couldn't squeeze out a single word.

A crushing terror squeezed her heart, cutting off her air.

John jumped up from the couch, his face white as paper.

But his expression wasn't grief. It was sheer panic over the massive trouble this would bring them.

He pointed at the officers, his voice shaking.

"No way! You guys got it wrong! That kid was troublesome, but... but there's no way she..."

He couldn't finish his sentence, silenced by the pity and disgust in the officer's eyes.