Chapter 6

My father's expression turned cold.

He faced the cameras, his voice controlled.

"Gertrude is perfectly fine."

"In fact, while law enforcement was searching for the killer that night, she repeatedly interfered with the operation."

"She flooded emergency lines and Moretti security channels with false information."

"Her actions nearly caused a serious incident."

My mother stepped in, disappointment clear on her face.

"What she did was completely irresponsible."

"She's our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean we'll protect her from the consequences."

"If the authorities decide to prosecute her, we won't interfere."

"If she broke the law, then she should answer for it like anyone else."

The livestream exploded.

Some praised my parents for putting justice above blood.

Others turned their anger toward me.

Within minutes, my name, old photographs, and personal information were spreading across social media.

Someone edited one of my photos into a black-and-white memorial portrait, splashing fake blood across my face.

Thousands of comments followed.

"Gertrude Moretti is disgusting."

"She wasted emergency resources while a killer was on the loose."

"Someone like her deserves to die."

"What a shame the killer didn't find her instead."

Adela immediately raised her hands toward the camera.

"Please, everyone, don't say that."

Then she turned toward my parents, her eyes shining with tears.

"This is all because of me."

My father's expression didn't soften.

"How could this possibly be your fault?"

He looked directly into the camera.

"For once, the internet is right."

"If Gertrude hadn't spent the entire night making false reports, perhaps law enforcement would've received useful information sooner."

"Maybe that killer would already be in custody."

His jaw tightened.

"Having a daughter like her..."

He paused.

"We might as well consider her dead."

I stood beside him and gave a bitter smile.

"Dad."

"You don't have to be angry anymore."

"I'm already dead."

Almost the moment he finished speaking, a side door of the press hall flew open.

A man from the county medical examiner's office rushed inside.

His face was pale, sweat covering his forehead.

Even with reporters and cameras surrounding him, he didn't stop.

"Don Moretti."

My father frowned.

The man struggled to catch his breath.

"Human remains were recovered from an abandoned septic tank in Southside."

The room went silent.

"Female victim."

His voice began to shake.

"Preliminary identification indicates..."

He swallowed hard.

"The victim is your biological daughter."

"Gertrude Moretti."