The Ghost of the Wife He Buried

3: 3

Once the exact address came through, the whole department kicked into motion.

Jason didn't go.

I drifted behind him, watching him drive Zoe home.

Every trace of me was already gone from the car.

The good-luck charm I'd given him had been swapped for a pink plush toy Zoe liked.

A sticker on the passenger seat read Zoe's spot.

I sat in the back, and the cold crept through me inch by inch.

In that moment, it finally sank in.

The Jason who used to see only me, want only me, had truly fallen in love with someone else.

The car turned onto the familiar road.

Police lights flashed not far ahead.

Jason's fingers tightened on the wheel without his noticing, and he suddenly spoke.

"Zoe, that day, did you really see your sister leaving the flower shop with Bryce Finch?"

Zoe looked at him, her eyes going red.

"What are you trying to say?"

"You think I'd lie to you about something like this? If you don't believe me, then go ahead and lock me up too!"

Jason panicked and apologized at once, low and quick.

Only after he'd coaxed her tears into a smile did he let out a breath.

I sat quietly in the back seat.

Watching him hand over every bit of the doting that had once been mine to someone else.

I blinked. No tears came.

The dead don't cry.

I couldn't leave Jason, so I was dragged along behind him, into the house.

Tomorrow was the day Jason and Zoe would marry.

The rooms were covered in red wedding characters.

The bright red stung my eyes.

Just one day ago, he'd said marrying me was the happiest thing in his life.

Jason sat on the couch, staring blankly at the pencil smudges left on his hand from the profiling.

Then his phone screen lit up.

I drifted over and saw him open the chat with the captain.

The captain had sent photos of skeletal remains.

Beside the bones lay a plain ring.

【Only part of it has been dug up. We can't identify the victim yet.】

【Once your wedding leave is over, we may need you to draw the victim's portrait.】

【There's s.z.q engraved inside the band.】

That was our wedding ring.

He'd engraved those letters himself.

When he slid the ring onto my finger, his whole body had been shaking.

The chat kept showing "typing."

A minute later, the message finally came.

【Jace... is Lucia Simmons really all right?】

Jason's body snapped taut.

He opened those photos again and zoomed in.

Standing beside him, I felt a faint hope rise in my chest.

Jason was hailed as a profiling genius the field saw maybe once in a century.

He'd once pinned down a suspect from nothing but a passerby's vague, fumbling description.

And he and I had lived side by side for twenty-five years.

Surely he'd recognize me.

Jason jerked his call log open.

His finger hovered over my number for a long time, his hand trembling and refusing to stop.

He drew in a deep breath, took a screenshot of the call log, and sent it to the captain.

The other end went silent for a long while, and in the end only replied: Got it.

I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I crouched on the floor and sobbed.

Why won't you believe me?

Why won't you come looking for me?

A phone call cut through my crying.

It was my brother.

"Is that jade bracelet Lucia left still around?" His tone was warm, indulgent. "It was my mom's. Zoe's wanted it for ages. Let's surprise her with it at the wedding tomorrow."

Jason agreed with a nod.

After the call ended, he pulled open the bottom drawer.

Inside sat the jade bracelet my mother had left me.

And a man's wedding ring.

"No, Jason, you can't give that bracelet to Zoe." I crouched beside him, uselessly trying to push the drawer shut.

But I couldn't touch it.

I could only watch as Jason lifted the bracelet out and wrapped it up with care.

The man's wedding ring beside it, he tossed carelessly into the trash.

I raised my hand and stared, dazed, as the wedding ring on it faded and dissolved, bit by bit.

Another piece of my existence, wiped away.

Jason went into the bedroom.

Tomorrow's groom's suit was pressed flat and neat.

Before washing up, he checked himself in the mirror again and again like a nervous kid, his face full of anticipation and nerves.

I'd seen him like this many times.

The day he first confessed to me.

The day he became a profiler and proposed to me.

The day of our wedding.

But this was the first time I'd ever seen him look this way for someone else.