Chapter 2

"No, that's impossible."

I stood in the middle of the living room, my arms crossed over my chest.

"You've made a mistake."

"You're absolutely wrong."

Detective Vance stood by the couch, making no move to sit down.

His gaze swept over the still-running oven in the kitchen, along with the neatly arranged cooking utensils on the island.

"Mrs. Hayes, I completely understand how you're feeling right now."

"But we found Mr. Hayes's charred briefcase at the scene, containing his ID and a wedding band engraved with your initials."

"The ME is currently running a DNA comparison, but based on the physical evidence we have..."

"I told you, you've made a mistake!"

I suddenly raised my voice, which sounded so shrill it was foreign even to me.

I rushed over to the couch and snatched up the phone I had just thrown down, my fingers trembling so badly I failed to unlock it a few times.

"He's not dead!"

"I was just on the phone with him!"

"Just forty minutes ago!"

I shoved the phone screen right into Detective Vance's face.

The screen clearly displayed the call log: November 29th, 7:05 PM, call duration 3 minutes and 12 seconds.

Detective Vance frowned and took my phone.

He looked at the screen carefully, then scrolled through the text message logs.

Green and white chat bubbles intertwined, documenting all our minor daily affairs over the past two days.

"'Remember to buy milk,' 'Project is going smoothly,' 'Wait for me tonight for our fifth anniversary'..." Vance muttered the words on the screen, his frown deepening.

He looked up, his eyes filled with doubt. "Mrs. Hayes, are you certain these were all sent by Mr. Hayes himself?"

"What do you mean?"

I snatched the phone back. "Of course I'm certain!"

"His tone, the stickers he always uses, and his voice complaining about the traffic on the phone just now!"

"Do you really think I wouldn't recognize my own husband's voice?"

Detective Vance fell silent for a moment before pulling a clear evidence bag from his pocket.

Inside the bag was a severely mangled, entirely blackened piece of metal debris.

From its shape, it was barely recognizable as the dial of a men's watch.

"Mrs. Hayes, do you recognize this watch?"

I stared at the evidence bag, feeling as if my breath had caught in my throat.

It was a limited-edition mechanical watch I had given Silas for his birthday last year.

There was a faint scratch on the edge of the dial, an accidental nick from when he was moving some blueprints once.

"That... that's Silas's watch."

I swallowed hard.

"This watch was found on the victim's wrist."

Detective Vance's voice turned exceptionally calm; that objective statement felt incredibly cruel at this moment. "Due to the extreme temperatures, the watch's mechanical structure has completely seized up."

"The hands are stuck at 10:15 PM."

"And according to the ME's preliminary scene investigation, the carbonization of the body and the burn marks at the scene indicate that this crash happened at least three days ago."

"Three days ago?"

I repeated the words blankly, my mind going completely numb.

"Yes."

"To be exact, the night of Tuesday, November 26th."

Detective Vance stared closely at me. "Mrs. Hayes, if your husband was killed on Tuesday night, then who exactly has been texting and calling you for the past three days?"

I felt the whole room spinning.

Tuesday?

November 26th?

I desperately tried to recall the details of that night.

Silas had said he needed to stay late at the office to deal with some urgent blueprint revisions.

We had only exchanged a few quick text messages.

On Wednesday, he said he went to the neighboring city to meet with a building materials supplier.

On Thursday, which was yesterday, he said he swung by the house to put the groceries in the fridge, then rushed straight back to the office.

"That's impossible..."

I slumped down onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. "He came home yesterday."

"He texted me, saying he put the ingredients for the beef Wellington in the fridge."

"When I got home from work today, the food was right there in the fridge."

"If it was someone else... if someone else was impersonating him, how could they have possibly gotten into my house?"

Detective Vance's eyes sharpened instantly.

He quickly scanned the living room, his gaze landing on the front door.

"Mrs. Hayes, is your home security system connected to an app?"

"Yes, it's the 'Shield' smart security system."

"The deadbolt, cameras, and alarms are all integrated."

"Yesterday, when your husband said he came home to drop things off, did you get a notification that the door was unlocked?"

I froze.

I was usually swamped with work, and with my phone flooded with various push notifications, I rarely bothered to check every single log from the security system.

"I... I'm not sure."

"But I can check."

With trembling hands, I opened the security app on my phone.

The loading circle spun on the screen; every second felt as long as a century.

Finally, the door lock's history log refreshed.

I stared at the screen, my pupils constricting sharply.