I never thought my dad, the leader of our local search and rescue team, would find my bones buried in the snow during a training exercise. He immediately called my adopted sister Natalie to cancel her upcoming hiking trip, citing safety concerns. One of his team members reminded him, “Hey Trevor, shouldn’t you call your younger daughter Hazel too? I heard she was planning a hike as well.” But my dad’s face darkened as he snapped, “Why bring up that good-for-nothing? I hope that murderer dies out there!” Little did he know, I was already dead. Those broken bones they just uncovered? They were my remains. Yet my own father couldn’t even recognize his daughter’s bones. “The bones show signs of blunt force trauma and are incomplete,” observed one of the experienced officers at the scene. “This doesn’t look like an accident. It appears to be a homicide.” My dad nodded gravely, promising to search for any remaining bones. Before they began, he pulled out his phone to call Natalie, my adopted sister. “Sweetie, there’s been a murder on the mountain. Cancel your hiking plans and don’t go out for a few days, okay? Stay safe.” “Okay, Dad. I’ll be careful,” Natalie replied sweetly. My dad fussed over her for several more minutes until she playfully complained her ears were getting sore from all his warnings. After he hung up, one of his team members spoke up. “Hey Trevor, didn’t your younger daughter Hazel mention going on a hike soon too? Maybe give her a call as well?” My dad’s face instantly darkened. “Why bring up that monster?” he spat. “That girl killed her own mother. I hope she dies out there!” Though I was already dead, I felt an icy chill run through my non-existent body. So this was how much my father hated me. But if he hated me so much, how could he not recognize these pitiful bones as belonging to the daughter he despised? The search continued for a full day and night. The rescue team combed every inch of the mountain. My dad worked for 48 hours straight without sleep. But they found very few remains. When the police came to question my dad, his expression was even grimmer than before. “We’ve searched the entire mountain and only found one leg bone,” he reported. “I suspect the victim was dismembered and the parts scattered.” The officer looked shocked. “So the killer may have disposed of the remaining bones elsewhere?” “Not just bones,” my dad clarified. “Other body parts too. Remember, we’ve only found one leg bone so far.” “This was an extremely brutal murder. The killer is far more vicious than we initially thought.” The officer absorbed this information silently before replying, “I’ll call for more manpower and expand the search area.” Just then, a team member discovered a necklace hanging from a tree branch and brought it over. My spirits lifted at the sight of it. That necklace was a birthday gift from my dad three years ago. Surely he would remember! I eagerly awaited the moment my dad would recognize it and finally realize it was me. But his eyes barely glanced at the necklace before handing it to the officer, saying it might be a personal effect of the victim. He suggested taking photos to post online in hopes of identifying the deceased’s family. The team member who found it hesitated before speaking up. “Trevor, doesn’t this necklace look familiar? I think I’ve seen your younger daughter wearing something similar…” My dad’s brows furrowed in annoyance. “There are countless identical necklaces out there. Charlie, you’ve been acting strange today. Did that conniving Hazel put you up to this? Don’t fall for her tricks.” Uncle Charlie tried to say more, but my dad was called away. As I watched his busy figure retreat, my hopes sank to rock bottom. My dad didn’t used to be like this. He once loved me too. But ten years ago, his high school sweetheart died in a domestic violence incident, leaving behind a young daughter. My dad took her in against my mom’s wishes, treating her like his own child. My mom couldn’t accept it and wanted a divorce. After a huge fight, she took me to a high bridge, intending to jump with me. The wind was so strong and I was terrified. I begged her to put me down. In the end, my mom’s body was found in the icy river. But I survived. When my dad got the call from the recovery team, he slapped me twice without hesitation, calling me a murderer who killed my own mother. He declared Natalie was his only daughter now. I was even forced to change my last name. I could no longer be called Hazel Turner, only Hazel Hayes. I knew my dad hated me with every fiber of his being. Now that I was finally dead, was he happy? The search continued. My teacher called my dad, reporting that I was missing. “Hazel hasn’t been seen at school since yesterday evening. Her roommate said she wasn’t there all day yesterday either,” the teacher explained anxiously. “Mr. Turner, can you reach Hazel? If not, we should file a missing persons report.” My dad’s face showed nothing but irritation. “Ms. Sanders, Hazel has always been a liar. She often lies to skip class. Don’t worry about her. Once she’s done playing around, she’ll come back on her own.” “But…” the teacher tried to protest, but my dad had already hung up. Because Natalie was calling him. “Dad, I’m not feeling well. When will you be done with work?” she asked in a sweet voice. My dad’s furrowed brow instantly smoothed out as he patiently replied, “Daddy still needs some more time, sweetie. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to take time off to stay with you?” His gentle tone and concerned questions made my heart ache. Since Mom died, Dad had never spoken to me so kindly again. He always called me a murderer, saying I was the reason our family fell apart. But Dad, I’m your real daughter. I want your care and concern too. Even if it’s just one sentence. That evening, my dad still took time off to go home. He gazed at Natalie lying in bed, surrounded by 24/7 caregivers and on-call doctors, his eyes brimming with worry. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” he asked softly. “Daddy!” Natalie’s face lit up with joy as she threw her arms around him in a big hug. Watching their affectionate scene, even my bodiless spirit felt a lump in my non-existent throat. But I had no tears to shed. I could only watch as my dad fussed over Natalie in bed. After a long while, Natalie looked up from my dad’s embrace, her eyes darting around as she cautiously asked, “Dad, didn’t you say the search would take several days? Did you find all the dismembered remains already?” My dad froze for a moment before reflexively asking, “How did you know the body was dismembered?” My dejected spirits suddenly perked up as I stared at my dad expectantly. Even though he didn’t recognize the necklace he gave me, surely he wouldn’t miss such an obvious clue? But Natalie easily defused the situation with one sentence: “I saw it on the news.” “Oh Dad, that poor person. I wonder how devastated their family must be to hear the news.” “It is tragic,” my dad agreed. “But we haven’t identified the victim yet, so their family… probably doesn’t know yet.” He echoed Natalie’s words, completely missing the flash of triumph in her eyes. The tiny spark of hope in my heart was snuffed out again. Dad, it’s me! You’ve already noticed something’s off. How can you still not recognize me? My dad stayed home with Natalie all day. It wasn’t until midnight that the rescue team called, saying they made a major discovery at the supply station at the base of the mountain. They needed him to come back immediately. My dad hurriedly got dressed to leave, but Natalie suddenly appeared clutching the doll he’d given her when she first came to live with us. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Dad, there’s thunder outside. I’m scared…” she whimpered. My dad hesitated. Just as it seemed Natalie would successfully keep him from leaving, Uncle Charlie frantically sent over a dozen photos from the scene. My dad’s pupils constricted as he glanced at them. He quickly reassured Natalie, “Be good, sweetheart. Let the nanny stay with you. Daddy will be back soon.” Then he raced downstairs and sped to the scene. When my dad arrived at the supply station, Uncle Charlie tried to stop him from entering. “Trevor, I really don’t think you should go in there…” But my dad brushed him off. “I’ve been doing search and rescue for years. What haven’t I seen? Move aside!” The next second, he charged into the scene. But as soon as he saw the well cordoned off by police tape, he ran to the side and started violently retching. The stench of decay filled the air around the well. Bloated body parts had been fished out, now unrecognizable. Nearby sat a pile of sealed evidence bags containing various weapons: hammers, axes, saws. Even a grindstone. The police explained these were all tools the killer had used on the victim. And not just for dismemberment. “The victim was still alive when these tools were used on her,” an officer reported grimly. “We found multiple blood stains and tissue residue on nearby rocks, likely from the victim’s desperate attempts to resist the pain.” “She was tortured to death.” “We’ve also roughly determined the victim’s profile: female, tall build, with an old fracture on the left leg bone, likely from a dog bite. The victim probably had limited mobility…” With each word, my dad’s eyes grew darker and more haunted. Dad, are you finally feeling sad for me? The next second, Uncle Charlie suddenly spoke up. “Trevor, didn’t your younger daughter have a limp in her left leg? And her build… I remember it was similar to this child’s.” “Charlie!” The sympathy vanished from my dad’s eyes, replaced by anger and resentment. “What has that little bitch been telling you? You’ve been bringing her up way too often lately!” “I’ve told you, even if that bitch died out there, it has nothing to do with me!” “Besides, someone as vile as her who could watch her own mother die – how could she possibly be dead?” Uncle Charlie tried to say more, but my dad had already walked away. Just then, a nearby officer received a call from my teacher reporting me missing. “Boss, your daughter Hazel’s teacher filed a missing persons report. Says Hazel has been gone for days.” But my dad grabbed his phone and smashed it to the ground. “Enough! When will this end?” he roared. “The victim has already suffered such a horrible fate, yet you’re all still playing along with that little monster’s game of make-believe!” “If she wants to play at being missing, then let her! Solving this case is what’s important!” The officer tried to say more, but my dad’s phone suddenly rang. Natalie’s voice came through. “Dad, the thunder is so loud. I’m really scared…” Hearing Natalie’s whimpers, my dad immediately started soothing her. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s coming home right now.” But he had barely taken a few steps when the officer called him back. “Mr. Turner! Come back!” My dad was forced to stop. It turned out Ms. Sanders had braved the heavy rain to come in person. She brought the security footage of me leaving school that day. The red jacket I was wearing matched the victim’s exactly!
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