Soon, the next photo came into view crystal clear.
A white van with a City H plate was parked right there. It must’ve been snapped when that guy was leaving. But something else caught my eye—a random passerby who also made it into the frame.
I zoomed in and recognized her—it was Ruth Collins.
I told them to send the photo to my phone and pointed straight at her face. “Didn't she say she went to City S? What's she doing here?”
“She came back home for the Mid-Autumn Festival. Said she saw the van and kept asking about the guy inside. Apparently, that same van picked her husband up four years ago for some ‘quick money' gig. Then he vanished... and later turned up dead in City H.”
So that’s the truth. It had nothing to do with my cousin pulling strings—it was Victor Knight’s s
