Killed by Dad's Criminals, Dissected by Mom

Chapter 2

At the case review, my mom's autopsy report landed like a bomb, and everyone in the room went stone cold.

My face was too mangled for any kind of recognition, and the unfinished building wasn't the first crime scene, which only made the case harder to crack.

My dad took charge, voice sharp and focused. “Start canvassing the area around where the body was dumped. Look for anything out of the ordinary. Get the DNA to the lab ASAP. I want a full recheck of the body.”

With a final nod, he left the room, leaving my mom to handle things. They were putting more effort into solving my death than they ever did while I was alive.

I remembered the time my mom had stroked Sophia's hair with that same calm, assured touch. “Speaking for the dead is a noble profession,” she'd said, her voice dripping with pride. Sophia had smiled, playing the perfect daughter, but the second my mom looked away, she tossed her hair like it was a burden.

I slapped her for that. My dad shaved my head in response. “If you can't act like a decent human being, you don't deserve your hair,” he'd said.

Now, my mom's gloved hand moved over what was left of my hair, my dead hair, and her voice softened, almost tender. “To die like this... her family must be destroyed.”

I wanted to laugh, bitterly. Destroyed? My family would probably be relieved I was gone. Maybe my brother would shed a tear, but the rest? They'd move on without a second thought.

Her fingers brushed over the burn scars on my back. The marks from the time I was kidnapped. When I was brought home, Mom had looked at my back, disgust on her face.

“What happened to your back?” she'd asked, pulling away as if I were infected. “It's disgusting. Don't let Sophia see it. You'll traumatize her.”

I wondered if she'd recognize me now, if she'd remember the scars. My heart raced, but the moment passed, and she shook her head. “These burns aren't from this time.”

Of course, she wouldn't recognize me.

“Doctor!” the assistant suddenly called, breaking the tension. “There's something in the victim's stomach.”

Mom snapped to attention, her eyes narrowing as she carefully extracted a piece of paper. “Stomach acid's eaten away at it. We'll send it to trace evidence. Let's see if they can get anything out of it.”

Then, a familiar ringtone broke the silence—Sophia's favorite song.

Mom quickly peeled off her gloves and rushed into the hallway, her voice soft and loving. “Hey, sweetheart. What's wrong? Mommy's working.”

Sophia's voice chirped through the phone, light and upbeat. “Tomorrow? You have to come. I need you there to cheer me on!”

Mom paused for a second, then said firmly, “Of course, baby. Your dad and I wouldn't miss it. Your brother's on a business trip, but we'll be there.”

“Love you, Mom!” Sophia giggled. “I still wish Emily would come. I know with her there, I'll totally win.”

“It's okay if she doesn't want to,” Sophia added with an exaggerated sigh. “I get it. She's always been jealous. I've always had more of your love.”

That fake act of sisterly concern made my stomach churn. But I knew exactly how this would play out.

Mom's voice turned sharp, like a whip. “Sophia, you're our everything. And Emily? What does she count for? Stealing, lying, causing trouble? She doesn't deserve to be called my daughter.”

I wanted to block it out, but her voice kept cutting through. “Don't worry, honey. Even if Emily's legs were broken, I'd wheel her into your match. She'll definitely see you play.”

Sophia's laughter rang out, sweet and saccharine. “Dad reminded me earlier to stay safe. Mom, make sure Emily gets the same reminder.”

Mom scoffed. “Yeah, take care of yourself. And as for Emily? Who cares where she gets lost as long as she stays out of our way.”

Her voice was casual, like she was talking about someone else. It didn't hurt anymore, not really. The numbness just made the truth hit harder. They'd written me off.

Even when I came home, they didn't bother changing my surname. To them, Sophia was their real daughter.

As they fretted over her safety, no one even remembered I existed. Their real daughter.

But if they ever found out the truth. If they learned Sophia had a hand in my death, that their blind favoritism played a role, I wondered if they'd finally feel the guilt they should have felt all along.