I’m a forensic pathologist. While shopping at the grocery store, I discovered human flesh displayed at the butcher counter. After reporting it to the police, I immediately contacted my niece to warn her to be careful. A friend reminded me that I should also be concerned about my daughter. I angrily cursed: “It would be better if she died out there. I never want to see her again.” But what I didn’t know was that she had already seen me. I failed to recognize that the pile of flesh in front of me, waiting for my examination, was my own daughter. In the trash bin behind the butcher counter at the grocery store, there was a pile of yellowish fatty tissue that turned out to be human remains. Detective Johnson rushed to the scene as soon as he received the report. I felt relieved when I saw my old partner arrive. “Johnson, this is a serious situation,” I said. Detective Johnson nodded with a frown. Finding dismembered body parts at a grocery store butcher counter – any part of that phrase was enough to send the whole city into a panic. To avoid causing public alarm, Detective Johnson sealed off all the meat counters in the entire store. He asked me, “How long will it take you to examine all these samples?” I had a grave expression. As a dedicated and responsible forensic pathologist, I replied, “At least two days.” I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. With my mother’s skills, she would surely be able to help catch the real culprit quickly. Detective Johnson’s brow relaxed a bit. “Make arrangements at home. You should stay at the station for the next few days.” I nodded and pulled out my phone. The moment the call connected, the normally serious and professional female pathologist became gentle and affectionate. “Emma, sweetie, Mom has to work overtime for the next few days. Be good and stay at home. Don’t go out. If anything happens, contact Mr. Wilson next door, okay?” After giving detailed instructions, I hung up the phone feeling reassured. As I turned to get in the car, Detective Johnson called out to stop me. “Shouldn’t you call Abby too? Tell her to be extra careful.” My face instantly darkened: “It would be better if she died out there. I never want to see her again.” I smiled bitterly to myself. Who knew that even souls could feel pain! Mom said she never wanted to see me again, but I was already right in front of her. Many of the samples she was intently focused on examining came from my own body. She just hadn’t recognized me yet.
After two sleepless days and nights of hard work, I finally managed to separate the human tissue from the animal tissue. The results shocked everyone. Detective Johnson looked at me in disbelief: “You’re saying only a quarter of this is human?” I nodded coldly: “That’s right.” Everyone’s faces were grim. They had originally thought only the head was missing, but now it turned out so much of the body was gone too. If human tissue had made its way onto citizens’ dinner tables, it would cause huge waves of panic across the city. The higher-ups were taking this very seriously. The situation was becoming more and more difficult to handle. Detective Johnson’s gaze swept over the display rack nearby, landing on one of the tissue samples. He took down the sample and handed it to me: “What’s this?” My soul began to get excited. They were finally going to discover it was me. I believed that as soon as Mom realized the victim was me, she would surely be able to find the real killer. I had a serious expression: “I was just about to tell you about this. It’s currently our only lead.” “There’s a scar on the victim’s ankle. DNA comparison will take time, but this clue can effectively shorten the comparison process.” Detective Johnson’s brow furrowed slightly: “Doesn’t Abby have a scar on her ankle too? I remember…” Detective Johnson wasn’t just my parents’ old partner, he had also been our neighbor for over 20 years. The scar on my ankle was from when I was riding on the back of his bicycle and got caught in the wheel. He still remembered that incident! Before Detective Johnson could finish speaking, Mom angrily interrupted him. “Johnson, stop it. I know you’re trying to improve my relationship with Abby and get me to show more concern for her. But whenever I think of her, I’m reminded of my husband’s death. I can never forgive Abby.” “She’s the one who caused my husband’s death.” My heart was suddenly pierced with pain, my soul trembling. After all these years, Mom still couldn’t forgive me. I was the one who caused Dad’s death. I deserved to die! Years ago, my aunt and uncle died in an accident, leaving my cousin Emma an orphan. Dad felt sorry for Emma having no one to rely on, so he took her in to raise. But Emma and I didn’t get along well, and we often argued over trivial things. Three years ago on a rainy night, Emma and I had a huge fight and she angrily ran out of the house. Dad drove out to look for Emma. He got into an accident on the way and died at the scene. Mom cursed me as a murderer, saying I had caused Dad’s death. She kicked me out of the house and stopped taking care of me. Mom said Emma was the only blood relative left in the Su family, and she treated Emma like her own daughter. Now, I had been killed in the most cruel way. I, the “murderer”, had received the harshest punishment! Could Mom forgive me now?
As we left the police station, Mom’s phone rang. My grandmother’s anxious voice came through the speaker: “Olivia, Abby is missing.” The moment I heard Grandma’s voice, my heart clenched. If she found out about my death, that kind old lady would be heartbroken. Ever since Mom kicked me out of the house, Grandma had taken me in. Grandma and Mom’s relationship wasn’t good to begin with. After taking me in, they completely cut off contact. Mom snorted disdainfully: “She’s pulling this childish stunt again. Does she think she’s still three years old?” Grandma said worriedly: “But I haven’t been able to reach her for three days…” Before Grandma could finish, Mom angrily scolded her. “I’ve told you before, don’t talk to me about that troublemaker anymore.” Mom hung up the phone and blocked Grandma’s number. After returning home from the police station, Mom immediately went to Emma’s room. “Emma, Mom’s home,” she called out in a gentle, affectionate voice. The kind of loving voice all doting mothers use. I once had that kind of love too, but now it no longer belonged to me. She was only Emma’s mom now. Emma got up and threw herself into Mom’s arms, acting coy. “Mom, you work too hard. I’ve missed you so much these past few days.” Mom stroked her head lovingly: “Don’t worry, once Mom finishes the case I’m working on, I’ll take some vacation days and bring you to see the capital.” The capital! The place I had always dreamed of visiting to see the flag-raising ceremony. Now, all those wonderful things were given to Emma instead. Emma nodded with a smile, then casually asked: “Is this dismemberment case Mom’s working on very troublesome? Will they catch the killer?” With her professional instincts, Mom immediately picked up on the key point. “Emma, how do you know it’s a dismemberment case?” My heart leapt. If they pursued this lead from Emma, they might be able to find the killer quickly. Emma paused for a second, but reacted quickly, snuggling into Mom’s arms. “That day when you called me, I was worried something had happened to you. I know the rules at the station so I didn’t dare ask directly. I just searched online myself and heard about the dismemberment case.” Although Detective Johnson had quickly suppressed the news, we’re in an era of rapid information spread. There were still plenty of rumors circulating. Mom’s brow immediately relaxed. She hugged Emma tightly. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to Mom.” I shrank dejectedly into the corner. This lead had been cut off too!
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