Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

When Curtis saw the message, it was 3:10 AM.

The night was silent, with a lamp still burning in the living room of his penthouse. On the sleek and stainless steel coffee table, documents and case files were scattered, dust from two decades undisturbed until now.

The crime scene photos showed an abandoned and cluttered storage room, the victim's body clear in the grisly aftermath.

Rose had been a true beauty. Her daughter, Leanne, inherited her looks. But Rose's elegant face, so similar to Leanne's, appeared in the photo with the pallor and rigidity of death, giving off an eerie vibe that was worlds apart from the vibrant person he remembered.

The witness statement was in Curtis' hands. It was a record of six-year-old Leanne sitting in a police station, recounting her story to an officer.

"...It was so dark, and the factory was so big, I couldn't find my way. I missed my mom and dad so much. I saw them lying there, covered in so much blood. Mom's hand was so cold, and it felt so stiff. Dad always said to find the police, but it was too dark, and I was so scared. I walked for a long time until the sun came up..."

The statements were handwritten, the officer's scribbling worse than a rushed note. Curtis struggled through the messy lines, unable to fully grasp the terror little Leanne must have felt witnessing her parents' demise.

How frightened she must have been when her parents turned into such a horrifying sight.

have felt when

forehead in

message from Leanne, "When are you coming

you

started to type a reply but decided against it, instead

not even drinking the lemonade I've been

cat over to

the cat in the bedroom," Laura replied. "She's worried you'll be allergic when you

punch to Curtis, leaving a dull and lingering

and slumped back on the couch, the

was about a seemingly straightforward kidnapping case, a silenced

pointed towards Vector Vista, then vanished

the tragedy that befell the

target Vector Vista

suddenly