Chapter 5: The Body Without A Face
1170 Words
"I need to see my wife's body. Please. Let me in."
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't." The morgue attendant kept his voice low and firm, the way people do when they've been told not to bend. "We've received strict orders. No one is allowed inside."
"I'm not just anyone." Ralph stepped closer. The fluorescent light above made the tile floor look sickly. His jaw was tight enough to hurt. "I'm her husband."
"I'm sorry. We can't help you, sir." The man shifted on his feet. His hand hovered near the call button on the desk like he expected this to go bad. "Please leave. Or we'll have to call security."
The word _security_ landed wrong. Ralph could feel his pulse in his throat.
"Listen to me." He forced the fury down and let something else come through, something that sounded like grief. "Mrs. Rose Jones is my wife. Check the file. Rose Jones. Married to Ralph Jones. That's me."
The attendant didn't move.
"Sir, if you don't leave right now, we will be forced to use force."
Before Ralph could answer, the heavy door at the end of the hall clicked open.
Mr. Gab walked in.
The air changed. Even the attendant straightened.
"What are you doing here, Ralph?"
Ralph turned. "I came to see my wife."
Gab stopped two steps away. He didn't come any closer. His eyes were sharp, assessing, the same look he'd given Ralph at every family dinner for the last seven years.
"What wife?" Gab asked. "The one you divorced three weeks ago? The one you pushed to her death? Don't stand here and pretend you care."
The attendant looked between them and decided this was above his pay grade.
"The court hasn't finalized the divorce yet," Ralph said.
"Because she went missing, Ralph." Gab's voice cut. "She went missing, and did you bother to look for her? No. You were too busy with your mistress. I'm ashamed to even look at you."
Ralph swallowed. "Father-in-law."
"Don't you dare call me that." Gab lifted a finger. His stare didn't waver. "You lost that right the day you decided she wasn't enough for you."
For a second, Ralph almost said something real. Almost told him about the calls, the threats, the way Rose had started sleeping with one eye open. But that wasn't the role he was playing here.
"Please." He dropped his voice. "Just let me see her."
"Why?" Gab tilted his head. "So you can confirm she's dead and consider your mission a success? Wow."
Ring. Ring.
Gab's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out without breaking eye contact.
Unknown number.
He answered. "Hello? Who's this?"
No one answered at first. Then a calm voice slipped through the silence, flat and deliberate.
"Leave no traces uncovered."
The line went dead.
Gab lowered the phone slowly. He stared at it for a beat, then at Ralph, then at the attendant.
"Let him in."
The attendant blinked. "Sir, the orders were—"
"I said let him in."
The attendant hesitated, then nodded once. He came around the desk and gestured down the hall.
They walked in a line. The attendant in front, Ralph in the middle, Gab behind him like a guard. The hallway was too white. The walls were too clean. The smell hit them before they reached the door: cold metal and antiseptic and something underneath it that Ralph didn't want to name.
Every step echoed. Ralph counted them. Twelve steps to the steel door.
His chest was tight. Not with grief. With control. He had to keep his breathing even. Had to keep his hands from shaking. If he slipped now, Gab would see it.
The attendant stopped and pressed his badge to the reader. The lock disengaged with a soft click.
Inside: one table. One sheet. The shape underneath was wrong. Too small. Too still.
Mr. Gab didn't look at Ralph. "Show him."
The attendant reached for the corner of the sheet. He pulled it down in one motion.
Ralph's breath caught.
It was supposed to be her.
But the face was gone. The accident had taken it. What was left was bruises and burns and bandages wrapped tight where her eyes and mouth should have been. There was no way to see her. No way to know.
Part of him recoiled on instinct. The other part went very, very still.
_That's not her._
The thought came before he could stop it. Too much damage. No facial features. No way to run an ID.
And if it wasn't her, then she was still out there. Somewhere.
He forced his eyes to move. Slow. Like a man breaking apart at the seams. He let his shoulders drop. Let his mouth open a little.
Then he saw it.
Her left hand, lying palm down on the steel.
A thin gold band on the third finger, dulled and scratched by whatever they'd dragged her through. But he knew it. He would know it anywhere.
He'd put that ring on her finger seven years ago in a courthouse with bad air conditioning and a judge who was running late. She'd laughed when he fumbled it. She'd said she would never take it off.
His stomach dropped. Then flipped.
_The ring._
She never took it off. Not for work, not for sleep, not for swimming, not for anything. If this was her hand, then this was her body.
Relief hit him so hard his knees almost buckled. He swallowed it down before it could show.
He looked up for half a second. Gab was watching him. Not the body. Him.
Ralph let his mouth twitch. Just once. A small, unnoticeable smirk. Gone before Gab could read it. Then he covered it with a tremor.
"That's her ring," he said. He cracked his voice on purpose. "She never took it off. Not once."
Gab stared at him. No expression. "Satisfied?"
Ralph nodded. His throat felt tight. He let his eyes water but didn't let them fall. "Yes."
He reached out. His fingers hovered over her cold hand. Cold. Stiff. Dead.
But under the grief, his mind was racing.
If the face is destroyed, how did they confirm it was her? Who signed the paperwork? Who said this was Rose Jones?
What if someone put that ring on her? What if this is all a setup to make me think she's gone?
The lights above them buzzed. A faint, electrical sound that set his teeth on edge.
From down the hall, a door opened. Fast footsteps. Not the slow shuffle of hospital staff. These were urgent.
Gab's eyes flicked toward the sound, then back to Ralph. For the first time since Ralph had known him, he saw something other than contempt there.
Doubt.
Who the hell are we looking at? Ralph muttered to himself. Quiet enough that only he could hear it.
The lights flickered once. The buzzing stopped.
And then went out.
Darkness swallowed the room. The only sound was breathing. Three sets of it.
- Writer
