The night was cold. Silent.
The mortuary’s pale white walls reflected the flickering fluorescent bulbs above. Raynold stood near the body. He hadn’t moved from that spot since they brought her in.
Meilin.
She looked so small now. So lifeless. The vibrant fire she always carried in her eyes was gone, replaced by the chilling emptiness of death.
Raynold didn’t speak until I stepped closer. "They took off her clothes for the autopsy," he said. His voice was rough, restrained. "The identity checks confirmed it. Everything she told you... was real."
I nodded, my throat too dry to speak.
"We tracked her records," he added, handing me a tablet. "She lived with her grandmother in Qijiang District, in Chongqing."
I flipped through the records. Pictures. Birth certificate. Hospital files. The
