Chapter 2
I struggled desperately, pushing against him while choking out, “Honey… I’m carrying your child… Do you really… want both of us dead?”
My words had the desired effect. He slowly released my neck, forcefully gripping my shoulders instead. Glaring at me with bloodshot eyes, he shouted, “Lucy, tell me - did you hire someone to kill Mandy?”
His rage terrified me. I quickly explained, “Honey, you’re… you’re wrong. I don’t have the guts for that.”
“Hmph! You’d better hope I don’t find out you did it. Otherwise, I’ll strangle you myself.”
With a final menacing glare, my husband got off the bed and left.
He didn’t return to the bedroom that night. I tossed and turned, his furious face haunting my thoughts. It wasn’t until nearly dawn that I finally drifted into a fitful sleep.
I was woken by the sound of the doorbell. After listening for a while and realizing no one was answering, I drowsily got up to go downstairs and open the door.
But as I descended the stairs and saw the scene in the living room, I let out a scream of horror.
My husband was slumped motionlessly on the sofa, surrounded by a large pool of blood. He had slit his wrists. A bloody scalpel lay on the coffee table. Seeing this terrifying sight, I screamed again.
I couldn’t bear to look a second time - it was too horrific. My whole body went limp and I collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.
The doorbell kept ringing. Hearing my screams, it became even more urgent. I wanted to open the door but found I had no strength. I could only sit there sobbing.
After what felt like forever, the door was forced open from outside. Wendy and Mike entered, followed by two uniformed officers.
When they saw my husband, they were all startled. Mike immediately called the medical examiner, while Wendy helped me up from the floor where I sat crying.
The medical examiner arrived quickly and made a preliminary determination of suicide, with time of death around 2 AM. His face was contorted, as if he had experienced something terrifying just before dying.
Mike told me that my husband was the one who had killed Mandy Liu. I didn’t believe it at first, but he said the evidence was conclusive. They had obtained security camera footage from both our neighborhood and Mandy’s.
Although he had avoided the cameras in our complex, he wasn’t as familiar with Mandy’s area. They had captured an image of him there around 10 PM on the night of the murder.
I was stunned. Mike also told me they had found WeChat records on my husband’s phone confirming he and Mandy had planned to meet those days. So their initial conclusion was that my husband had committed suicide out of guilt.
I felt devastated. I crouched down, my body shaking uncontrollably like a sieve.
The police took my husband’s body away for further examination.
Our living room became a crime scene, surrounded by police tape. Especially that pool of blood on the floor - it made my heart race with fear just looking at it.
After I finished giving my statement, Wendy seemed very sympathetic. She put a comforting hand on my shoulder and asked softly, “Lucy, I see bruises on your neck. Did Charlie abuse you?”
Her question reminded me of the previous night’s events. I wiped away my tears and carefully said, “Last night I confronted him about the affair. He was in a bad mood and got physical.”
Wendy looked thoughtful, then said after a pause, “The neck is a vulnerable area. It seems he was trying to kill you. Why didn’t you call the police?”