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When Dad Conducted My Autopsy, My Dead Sister Returned
When Dad Conducted My Autopsy, My Dead Sister Returned
Author: Perfect Timing

Chapter 1

The heavy rain had been falling for three days, and the entire city seemed soaked, appearing gray everywhere.

When my waterlogged corpse floated out of the stinking ditch, it startled many onlookers.

An eight-year-old child was so frightened that he cried loudly and hid in his mother’s arms, who was soothing him softly.

I felt my eyes redden at the sight.

It had been a long time since I had felt a mother's embrace.

Ever since my sister went missing six years ago, my parents had only disdain for me.

They hadn’t even given me a smile, let alone a hug.

Soon, the scene was cordoned off with police tape. I stood among the crowd, quietly watching my rotting body.

A police car stopped in front of me, and when the door opened, my eyes lit up.

“Luke, the preliminary estimate is that the body has been submerged in water for three days. Given the heavy rain these days, any evidence at the scene may have been washed away. We’ll need you to put in more effort on the body.”

“The forensic department has extracted the victim’s DNA, and we will be notified as soon as we have results.”

My dad’s colleague, Capt. Lister, jogged over to update him on the situation.

The moment he saw the body, my dad frowned, and his eyes reddened.

He clenched his fists, so angry that his teeth began to chatter.

“This is just inhumane!”

I followed his gaze and indeed saw my tragic fate.

Both my hands and feet had been severed, my face was unrecognizable from the cuts, and my eyes had been gouged out, leaving only hollow sockets.

The terror from my last moments could still be faintly discerned in my features.

My mouth was exaggeratedly agape, a result of my desperate cries before I breathed my last.

My tongue had been cut out, making my dark, gaping mouth quite terrifying.

Just one look, and my dad began to cry.

I cried along with him. It had been six whole years since he had shown any emotion for me.

He squatted in front of my body, trembling as his hand traced the scars all over me.

He murmured with a catch in his voice.

“The facial features of the deceased are unidentifiable, but the preliminary conclusion is that she was a young woman around 25 years old. She had been severely abused before death. God, she was so young. How heartbroken her parents must be!”

I silently shed tears behind him. ‘Dad, if you knew that the person in front of you was me, would your heart ache?’

After all, I was the person he despised the most in this world. Countless days and nights, he had screamed for me to die.

Now, his wish had come true.

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