A Cue for Happiness

The following afternoon, there was complete silence in the conference room. Everyone was at a loss.

John Williams, the police officer in charge of the case, began collecting the documents scattered on the table. “If there’s nothing else to add, then the meeting is over. For tonight, follow up on the name list of girls that have gone missing recently. We have to confirm her identity.”

Right when everyone was yawning and getting ready to get on with their work, someone in the corner slowly stood up.

“I have a question.”

Natalie had one hand in the pocket of her white coat, and there was an aura of total tranquility around her.

Her colleagues all turned to look at her in surprise and couldn’t help but begin to gossip.

“That’s a new face. I’ve never seen her before. Is she a new coroner?”

“Are all fresh graduates this bold nowadays? Even the older, experienced people here have nothing to add. What could this brat have to say?”

“I’d love to know what exactly she’s got on her mind.”

Effie and Brandon looked at each other and communicated through their expressions. They thought it was absurd that they were treating Natalie as some newbie. They were eager to witness Natalie give them a slap in the face.

Meanwhile, Natalie did not mind what anyone was saying at all. She walked over to John and bent over to pick up some scratch paper from the ground, which had a footprint on it.

“Besides the autopsy report, I also wrote some information down by hand. However, it seems that it’s been treated like trash,” she commented.

she spoke was firm. Furthermore, her

he replied, “Hand

nothing more than scrap, I’m pretty sure you’ll do the same thing again.” Natalie dusted off the dirt on

just contain the victim’s time of death and DNA information. I’ve already stitched the corpses of the two female victims back together. Even though their faces are distorted beyond recognition,

find the third missing woman before something bad happens to her,” she continued to stress. “Whoever this criminal is, they make clean cuts. They don’t have a drop of sympathy in them, and they’re a serial killer as well—a typical sociopath. If we don’t hurry and take the chance to get them behind bars, then even more

in front of John, who

it was impressive how she had narrowed down a list of hundreds of people

introduce myself to everyone because of this case, so I’ll do it now. I’m Natalie Nichols, specially-appointed coroner of the Major Crimes

people in the conference room

some forty-year-old lady, not someone

to search for every single person on the

“She’s our saving grace!”

mind. “That’s all I have to say, so I’ll be taking my leave now. I hope all of you will continue putting in

imperceptible smile crept up

her colleagues watched in awe

them to their

that she was only in her twenties

match her level of observance. She had

Natalie had just taken off her white coat when she