Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sean followed Carter to the precinct to give his statement. Just then, the medical examiner entered with the preliminary autopsy report.

"It is fine, Sean is one of us. Go ahead and brief us," Carter said.

The coroner pinned the photos and lab results to the board, looking at Sean with respect. "Doctor Bradley's assessment was spot on. Our findings match his almost entirely."

"The only new detail is that we found a cardiac stent inside the victim's heart during dissection."

Sean narrowed his eyes. "The victim had a prior stent surgery."

Carter cursed under his breath. "So this was a targeted kill? The murderer specifically hunted down a woman with a stent and carved her heart out..."

"Hold on," Sean interrupted, his sharp instincts kicking in.

"Like I said, the only motive here is vengeance. He murdered someone with a stent and risked coming to the hospital to taunt the doctors. The killer and the victim had bad blood."

"Every standard stent has a unique serial number. If we trace the number through the hospital database, we can identify her immediately!"

The coroner shook his head with regret. "We already checked. This particular stent has no serial number."

How could there be no serial number?

Sean's brow furrowed deeply. As he stared at the image of the stent, an unsettling chill crossed his gaze.

I knew he was remembering something. Years ago, while I was volunteering as a teacher in a remote mountain town, I suffered a sudden cardiac event and needed an emergency stent.

Sean had coordinated with a local clinic, guiding the procedure remotely via video call.

Small rural clinics often used generic, unnumbered medical supplies.

However, Sean quickly shook his head, instantly discarding the thought. "Even without a serial number, there must be a surgical record. I suggest splitting into teams to cross-reference medical logs."

"There aren't that many young women with a history of heart disease. You will find her quickly."

Sean, why do you refuse to trust your instincts?

I called you right before it happened. I told you I was dying.

Yet you never believed a single word, and now you have missed the truth once again.

Carter asked Sean to stay on as a medical consultant for the investigation, starting with the cardiac wing of his own hospital.

By the time Sean returned to the ward, it was already eleven at night. The night-shift nurse saw him and spoke up with concern. "Doctor Bradley, things have been scary around here lately. You should tell your wife to stop delivering meals at night. I worry for her safety."

Sean's expression darkened. "She came here again?"

Ever since we got married, I had brought him dinner every single night he worked a graveyard shift. I never missed a day.

That was until Cynthia returned to the country for treatment. After a massive fight, Sean packed his bags and moved out. I hadn't delivered a single meal in months.

Yet tonight, "I" had supposedly shown up.

I was dead. How could I deliver dinner? Could it be that person... coming after Sean next?

I hovered anxiously beside Sean, terrified that opening the container might trigger a trap, yet secretly hoping he would open it to find a clue.

"Just throw that garbage out next time," Sean said coldly. He grabbed the lunchbox and tossed it into the trash can without a second thought.

Right at that moment, a woman in a silky white nightgown stepped out of a private room. Her delicate, pale face made her look like a fragile blossom.

She offered Sean a faint smile. "You are back."

Sean immediately rushed over to support Cynthia's arm, his eyes brimming with tenderness. "You are still recovering. You shouldn't be walking around. Let me help you back to bed!"

In the ten years I knew Sean, I had rarely seen him worry about anyone's health like this.

Whenever I tried to seek comfort during my own post-surgery recovery, he would dismiss me in a clinical tone, insisting there was no medical reason for my discomfort.

Cynthia was treated for a gastrointestinal illness, yet he pulled strings to move her into a luxury VIP suite in the cardiology wing just to look after her personally.

It turned out he wasn't incapable of love.

He just never loved me.

In his heart, all our years together were worthless compared to a single phone call from Cynthia.