In a chilling twist of fate, a moment of unspeakable horror unfolded, while Timothy Barrett, my husband, indulged in the arms of another. As I faced the darkest chapter of my life, he dismissed my desperate call for help with a heartless, chilling rejection, leaving me feeling utterly abandoned and alone.

Just ten days later, a grim reality emerged as Timothy, a brilliant forensic doctor, found himself dissecting a female corpse—unbeknownst to him, it was me, Mia Lane, the wife he had so callously cast aside. My life was taken in an act of brutal revenge, leaving my dismembered body to be hidden away in a suitcase and discarded into the river, where it would ultimately drift to shore, revealing the horrors of the past.

As the police cordoned off the area, my spirit lingered, hovering above the scene, watching the chaos unfold around the suitcase that once held my life. The stench of decay filled the air, and among the officers, Timothy approached with an air of confidence, oblivious to the truth that lay before him.

He methodically began his investigation, questioning the scene with a practiced eye. The air was thick with tension as he donned his gloves, unaware of the haunting connection we shared. As he examined the suitcase, memories of our life together flooded my mind, a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

Timothy’s expertise in forensic science had made him a respected figure in the city, but today, he stood at a crossroads where his professional acumen would unwittingly lead him to a personal reckoning. As he prodded the body, I held my breath, fearing that he would recognize the coat I wore—a birthday gift from him, now a symbol of my tragic fate.

In a moment that felt like an eternity, he confirmed my death, a grim assessment that would ripple through the lives of all who knew me. Meanwhile, his phone buzzed with a message from Maya, a name that felt like salt in the wound of my shattered heart.

As the evening unfolded, a different story began to emerge. Maya, a vibrant spirit, was swept up in the anticipation of a party, her excitement palpable. Conversations flowed as friends gathered, laughter echoing through the halls of their school. Yet, beneath the surface of her joy, a sense of unease began to creep in as she noticed Justin, a figure shrouded in mystery, behaving oddly.

As Maya made her way home through the darkening woods, she found herself caught in a web of confusion, her mind playing tricks on her as she stumbled into a world that seemed to blur the lines of reality. The flickering lights of a party drew her in, and with each step, the thrill of the unknown beckoned her closer.

Amidst the laughter and music, Maya’s heart raced as she navigated through a crowd filled with familiar faces, including Justin. The night spiraled into a whirlwind of emotions, where innocent flirtations turned into something more intoxicating, as she found herself lost in the moment, unaware of the shadows lurking just beyond the glow of the campfire.

But as the night wore on, the darkness of the forest began to close in, and Maya's world spun out of control, leading to a confrontation with her own feelings. In a moment of vulnerability, she reached out to Justin, her words tumbling out in a rush of drunken honesty, igniting a spark that could either bring them together or tear them apart.

As Justin carried her away from the chaos, a sense of urgency filled the air. He was determined to protect her, even as he felt the weight of their connection pressing down on him. The shadows of the past loomed large, but in that moment, he focused solely on keeping Maya safe, unaware of the deeper ties that bound them both.

In the quiet aftermath of the night, as dawn broke and the reality of their choices settled in, the threads of their intertwined destinies began to weave a story of resilience, love, and the power of second chances.

Timothy stepped back into the familiar surroundings of the police station, a place that had seen him through countless nights of relentless duty. The fluorescent lights, usually a source of mundane annoyance, felt almost like a warm embrace tonight. A sense of camaraderie, thick as the stale coffee brewing in the break room, wrapped around him like a well-worn blanket. Dominic Hart, his captain and a man whose presence was often a blend of gruffness and warmth, gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. Yet, in that moment, the gesture felt heavy, weighed down by unspoken concerns.

“Timothy, why don’t you take the night off? Go home. Spend some quality time with Mia. After all, you two are a couple…” The words, intended as a friendly nudge, landed on Timothy like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from his lungs. His usually stoic expression crumbled, revealing the weariness that had settled into the lines around his eyes, a testament to a struggle that went beyond the grind of late shifts.

“Mr. Hart, please,” Timothy replied, his voice low and gravelly, each word a labor. “Let’s not discuss her. I’ve moved on. I’ve already sent her the divorce papers.” He turned away, the harsh overhead lights catching the silver strands at his temples, reminders of the years he'd poured into the force—years now tangled in a web of personal chaos.

Dominic’s broad shoulders sagged under the weight of concern that transcended their professional bond. He had watched Timothy navigate the city’s darkest corners with unwavering resolve, a beacon of justice amidst the shadows. But this… this was different. This was a battle fought in the depths of the heart.

“Come on, man. Don’t be so stubborn,” Dominic urged, his voice softening in an attempt to break through the walls Timothy had built. “Have you really considered talking things over with her? I mean, really talking? What’s driving you to this decision, Tim? Is it that case with Maya from last year?”

Timothy’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching with suppressed emotion. He turned to face Dominic, his gaze sharp as a knife. “That’s not her concern, and you know it. This… this is about respect, Dominic. Mia has crossed a line. I’ve given her chances—more than she deserved—but I just can’t overlook it any longer.” His voice faltered as he turned away again, eyes drawn to the rain-streaked window, where the city lights blurred into an indistinct haze, mirroring his tumultuous thoughts.

Dominic sighed, running a hand through his already tousled hair. He understood Timothy better than most; he wasn’t someone who made hasty decisions, especially regarding something as monumental as marriage. “I really don’t believe Mia would betray you, Tim. Not intentionally. Could there be a misunderstanding? A lapse in judgment, perhaps?”

As the weight of those unspoken words hung in the air, the precinct door swung open. A young officer, fresh from the academy and wide-eyed with the thrill of duty, entered, clutching a plain, unmarked package. He approached Dominic’s desk, his expression a mix of nerves and determination.

“Package for Detective Carter, sir,” he announced, his voice slightly trembling. “Express delivery.”

Timothy turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the box. It was disturbingly nondescript, the sender and recipient scrawled in an almost childlike hand. His heart, already heavy with the burden of his crumbling personal life, sank further when he registered his own name listed as the sender. A chill, colder than the autumn rain outside, slithered up his spine.

He was ready to dismiss the box as a cruel prank, a jest in the midst of his turmoil. But Dominic, ever the seasoned investigator, intrigued by the younger officer's unease, reached out a hand. “Hold on, Tim. Let’s take a look.”

With a hesitation that spoke volumes, Timothy relinquished the box. Dominic carefully opened it, the silence in the room amplifying the rustle of the cardboard flaps. A beat of silence passed, then a collective gasp filled the air. A wave of shock washed over them, visceral and sickening, as the unmistakable scent of blood, thick and metallic, invaded their nostrils. It was a smell that lingered, a reminder of violence and violation.

Inside the box, nestled among packing straw stained a disturbing crimson, lay a severed finger. It was grotesquely preserved, the skin pale and slick, the cut end ragged and raw. Beside it, as if presented with a morbid ceremony, lay a photograph.

Timothy, his face a mask of grim professionalism, retrieved the finger with an evidence bag. His trained eye quickly assessed the object. “These fingers are fake,” he announced, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. “Some kind of… prosthetic. And this blood? Just red paint. But the presentation… it’s deliberate, calculated.”

His gaze shifted to the photograph. It was an old-fashioned print, the kind produced by a film camera, colors slightly muted and surreal. The image depicted a dimly lit room, illuminated by chaotic bursts of dazzling fluorescent lights. They weren’t arranged in any discernible pattern; instead, they seemed to explode from the ceiling, scattering light in a wild, almost violent manner, creating an effect that was disorienting, unsettling.

“It almost resembles a… starry sky,” Dominic mused aloud, his brow furrowing in confusion as he leaned closer, studying the photograph as if it were an ancient riddle. “But… why? What could this possibly mean? And why send this to you, of all people, Tim?”

In that moment, the unspoken tension in the room shifted, deepening. It was no longer just about a failing marriage or a detective’s personal woes. It was about something darker, something more sinister. The air crackled with unanswered questions, the weight of choices yet to be made, and the chilling realization that Timothy’s world, both personal and professional, was on the brink of irrevocable change. The severed finger, fake as it was, became a message, a harbinger of a storm brewing on the horizon.

Timothy let out a disdainful snort. “Mia has a knack for pulling these kinds of stunts. What’s the matter with her? It’s downright revolting!” Dominic, clearly baffled, asked, “But what does this bloody finger signify? Is Mia in some kind of trouble?”

“I refuse to believe it! She’s just trying to grab my attention. It’s as if she’s pleading with me not to go through with the divorce and to stay by her side!” Timothy shrugged, his indifference palpable.

He continued, “She knows that Maya has always dreamed of seeing the starry sky beneath the waves. Maybe she’s trying to threaten me into submission, claiming she’ll harm Maya!”

“She’s unbearable. Just the sight of her makes my stomach churn!”

“The more concern you show her, the more she thrives on it! I should really dig deeper and uncover the truth as soon as possible.”

In that moment, I felt like a disembodied soul, drifting through the air, engulfed in emptiness and sorrow.

He saw me as a wretched creature, filled with disgust just by my presence.

And truth be told, I, too, felt utterly repulsive.

Yet, he remained unaware of the reasons behind my actions, and I chose not to elaborate.

I found myself pondering whether he truly loved Maya.

Perhaps it was the fear of me actually causing harm to his beloved that led him to toss both the photo and the bloody finger into the trash.

Later, he pulled out his phone, intending to send me a message, only to discover that he had already blocked and deleted me.

After a moment of contemplation, he removed my number from the blacklist. He dialed a few times, but no one picked up.

Then, he decided to send me messages.

[Mia, if you even think about hurting her, you’ll regret it!]

[Stop with these games, you wretched creature! You make me sick! Even if you were to vanish, I wouldn’t spare you a glance! Just sign the divorce papers. Maya will be jealous if I have anything to do with you!]

A dull ache settled in my chest.

Just a few months ago, Timothy had shown me such kindness. Now, he could unleash such cruel words upon me. How heartless he had become!

I hadn’t betrayed him; none of this was my doing.

Yet, I was already lost, and the body in that suitcase belonged to me.

FLASHBACK

“Congratulations, you’re one month pregnant. Everything appears to be progressing well.”

Mia Lane clutched the results of her pregnancy test as she returned home, feeling as if she were in a dream. Was she really going to be a mother?

Summoning her courage, she sent a text to her husband, Timothy Barrett. “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

She felt like an eternity passed as she awaited his response. He had never appreciated interruptions during work hours, and the fear of being left unanswered loomed over her, just as it had in the past.

Then, her phone lit up. Timothy’s reply came through, brief and to the point: “Yeah. I have something to tell you.”

Relief washed over Mia as she hurried off to gather ingredients for dinner. She placed the pregnancy test results on the table, flipping them over to conceal the obvious.

That evening, a sleek black limousine rolled into the courtyard. Timothy stepped out, his suit jacket casually draped over one arm, his tall figure and striking features commanding attention.

“Take a look at this. Feel free to voice any requests you might have,” he said, his tone indifferent.

Mia glanced down at the papers he handed her. The first page bore the words “divorce agreement,” and the stark whiteness of the paper felt like a dagger to her heart.

FLASHBACK END