Goodbye to You Who Are Separated from Me

When I was brutally dismembered, my Brother was watching his other sister walk the runway.

My desperate call for help was met with his contempt, and he promptly hung up. Until my last breath, we never exchanged another word.

That night, the city was shaken by a horrific headless dismemberment case.

As the head of the criminal investigation team, he arrived at the crime scene and quickly deduced the primary location of the murder.

But what he couldn't figure out was that the victim was his most hated and despised biological sister.

——

An elderly scavenger found my dismembered remains while rummaging through trash.

Terrified, he couldn't even think straight. Thankfully, a passerby helped him call the police.

When the report came in, the station immediately dispatched officers.

Detective Matthew Marsden was notified while celebrating with Halle Aniston, toasting her successful runway show.

The night's festivities were abruptly overshadowed by the gruesome murder case.

With a stern expression, Matthew arrived at the crime scene. After discussing the methods and tools used with the forensic team, he ordered a search of abandoned buildings within a 20mile radius of the park.

Despite his youth, Matthew's sharp intellect and meticulous nature had earned him a promotion to lead the criminal investigations team after just three years on the job.

He was known for cracking complex cases and was now handling this highprofile murder.

The forensic pathologist looked at the dismembered body parts with a grimace, muttering, "This is going to take days, maybe even nights. The killer is exceptionally brutal."

Matthew agreed, his face a mask of revulsion. Even with his extensive experience, this level of grotesque violence was unprecedented for him.

Despite the multiple layers of masks he wore, he couldn't help but gag uncontrollably.

Hovering in the air, I watched the dismembered pieces that were both unfamiliar and hauntingly familiar, a deep sadness weighing on me.

Matthew's visible disgust felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

Even in death, I still repulsed him. I managed a wry smile, my already fractured soul feeling even more fragile.

Soon, the team pinpointed several suspicious locations.

Matthew analyzed the scene and zeroed in on an abandoned slaughterhouse about five miles away.

The moment he stepped inside, a powerful stench of blood hit him.

The floors and walls were smeared red as if the killer had deliberately turned the place into a bloodbath.

Matthew's brow furrowed as he dipped his finger into the blood on the wall and sniffed it. "We'll need to test this blood, but it doesn't smell like human blood."

He was right.

Before killing me, the murderer had cruelly dismembered a sheep in front of me.

The severed sheep's head had been placed on a broken table, staring right at me.

Matthew's eyes flickered with confusion as he noticed a pattern of small flowers on the floor.

My heart skipped a beat.

Could he remember my little quirk?

Every pair of shoes I bought had a small flower pattern stamped in the center of the sole. I'd kept this habit for years.

A junior officer, noticing Matthew's distraction, asked, "Captain Marsden, did you find something?"

Matthew snapped out of it. "No, just take photos for evidence and return to the team."

I thought, Of course, how can he remember?

The brutal murder and dismemberment case quickly caught the attention of the city's top officials.

Since it took time to piece together the remains and the victim's head hadn't been found, identification was still pending.

They could only extract DNA from the body and match it against the database.

The official autopsy report hadn't been released yet, but the forensic pathologist indicated that the victim had endured inhuman torture and mutilation before death. Judging by the wound's crosssections and blood traces, it seemed the dismemberment had been done while the victim was still alive—an extraordinarily heinous act.

The blood at the scene, however, was confirmed to be from a sheep. The sheep's head was discovered in a nearby forest, but there were no clues about the missing human head.

During a meeting, Matthew calmly outlined the details of the case.

"The victim was a young woman aged between 25 and 30. Death occurred within the last 24 hours. We have no background information, and the head is missing. It appears she was dissected alive.

"There have been no reports of missing persons that match her description. Her identity remains unknown."

The room was filled with frowns and concerned murmurs.

The city officials immediately issued a directive: all available police resources were to be mobilized to support Matthew, with a firm deadline to solve the case within a week.

"We cannot let a monster like this threaten our citizens' safety again!"

After the meeting, Matthew, weighed down with thoughts, headed to a cemetery on the outskirts of town.

When he arrived, he found Halle standing by a gravestone, her face buried in her hands, crying. Her eyes were red, but she forced a smile upon seeing Matthew.

In front of the gravestone was a bouquet of gardenias—his mother's favorite flower.

The tombstone featured a photograph of a happy couple: a man and a woman, both beaming. The man was my father, and the woman was Halle's mother.

Indeed, Halle was my stepmother's daughter, making us part of a blended family.

After paying their respects for a while, Matthew spoke up, "Let's go."

Halle hesitated. "Just a bit longer. On a day like today, she won't miss this."

I saw a flash of intense revulsion in Matthew's eyes as he coldly replied, "She doesn't deserve to be here!

"No murderer deserves to stand before their victim!

"She's nothing but a heartless menace—a real disaster!"

Halle looked down, sniffing as she spoke, "That was just an accident. Besides, we were all so young back then…"

Matthew cut her off sharply, "Don't mention her again. The only family I have now is you."

With that, Matthew led Halle away.

I found myself, as a ghost, curled up in front of my father's grave, crying uncontrollably. "Dad, I suddenly don't want him to keep looking into this anymore!"

For reasons unknown, my spirit could only follow Matthew.

He and Halle still lived in the same house, which I hadn't visited in ages.

When I was alive, Matthew never allowed me to come back.

Seeing him now, busy in the kitchen making dinner for Halle, I couldn't help but give a wry smile.

Who would have thought that someone so cold could cook such a delicious meal?

When the food was ready, Matthew called out, "Sis, dinner's ready!"

Halle walked into the room, her face showing signs of distress as if she had just had a nightmare. Matthew, concerned, asked, "Sis, what's wrong?"

Halle, with a slight quiver in her voice and a strained smile, replied, "I just miss Mom and Dad."

Halle's emotional finesse was truly impressive, hitting all the right notes, even in her distress. Matthew paused for a moment, then assured her, "Sis, you still have me."

As I watched them naturally lean into each other, I was taken aback.

I could clearly see the shyness in Halle's eyes—definitely not the kind of look a sister would give her brother.

At that moment, a wave of terror surged within me, as intense as the fear I felt before my death. I thought, Matthew, you can't fall into this trap!

The Halle in front of you is no innocent lamb. She watched me being dismembered and even hid my head.

"Matthew, it's been a while since we've heard from Cate. Maybe give her a call? It's not easy for her out there alone."

Matthew stiffened, his muscles tensing as he abruptly pulled away from Halle. His face was a mask of cold indifference. "Why bring her up? What happens to her out there is none of my concern. Don't mention her in front of me again.

"Let's eat, Sis."

Halle lowered her head, a satisfied and slightly smug smile on her pretty face.

It was the same expression she had when she watched me being dissected.

I had sensed something off about her long ago.

The first time I noticed that look in her eyes was eight years ago when my beloved kitten died under mysterious circumstances.

I remember that day vividly.

It was pouring rain, and Dad had been called away by his colleagues at the police station. My stepmother had gone out to pick up Matthew from his tutoring session, leaving just Halle and me alone at home.

When I went to feed the cat, I saw Halle looking toward the cat's bed with a smile that was both smug and unsettling.

My kitten suffered for a few minutes before its body went limp and lifeless. I was sure Halle was responsible.

I tried to confront her, but Matthew, back from his tutoring, ended up snapping at me, "What does Halle have to do with the cat's death? Stop making a scene!"

At that moment, Halle's gaze was just as smug and satisfied as she was now.

After my mother passed away and my stepmother brought Halle into our home, everything changed.

I felt more out of place in the house, and even Matthew, who had grown up with me, seemed to prefer Halle over me.

The death of my kitten left a hollow ache in my heart.

I knew no one would believe me if I spoke up.

No one would believe that the sweet, understanding Halle could be capable of something so cruel.

That night, I cried for hours. When Dad asked me what was wrong, I couldn't help but tell him everything I had seen.

He told me not to overthink it.

I was heartbroken and reluctant to return home, using the excuse of staying over at a friend's house.

I never expected Dad to come looking for me that night.

He told me he believed in me, gently patting my head as he said, "My little princess has grown up.

"You're even stronger than I imagined.

"Whatever you want to do in the future, I'll support you!"

That night, we talked openly for hours, and both felt better.

None of us could have predicted that tragedy would strike on the way back.

If I had known this would be the outcome, I would have never been so reckless!

Our brakes failed.

To avoid a large truck ahead, our car crashed into a roadside utility pole. In my daze, I felt a pair of warm hands lifting me, followed by a deafening explosion.

"Boom!"

When I woke up, I was met with the devastating news: Dad had died, and my stepmother had taken her own life.

Matthew was like a wild lion, his eyes blazing with rage, as though he wanted to tear me apart.

"Why didn't you die? Why are you still alive?

"It's all your fault!

"If it weren't for you, Dad wouldn't have died, and Halle's mother would still be alive. Why did it have to be you who survived?"

At that time, I shared his anguish. I, too, wondered why it wasn't me who had died.

The guilt was overwhelming. Matthew wouldn't let me near him, nor would he allow me near our home.

He declared that from now on, Halle was his only family.

And Halle, even then, still wore that same cold, calculating look in her eyes.

Maybe in Matthew's eyes, his real sister had already died.

That was just as well; he wouldn't be too upset when he learned the truth.

I did die on the day he watched Halle's fashion show.

No one knew what I'd been up to these years, let alone that I became an undercover agent for the police.

Before the bust, I came face to face with the backstage boss, Vincent Kent's mysterious girlfriend.

The moment Halle appeared before me with her nose in the air, I knew I was probably a goner. She smiled at me, said "long time no see," and showed me a video of cat abuse.

"So, you've become a police informant. Just as stupid as your father!" she sneered. Then, she pointed to a location on the map and said, "If you want to know the truth about our parents' death, go there yourself.

"You know how much Matthew loves me as a sister," she added with a mocking smile in her eyes. I knew she was using Matthew to blackmail me. I had to go; I didn't dare not to.

It was an abandoned slaughterhouse. Halle dismembered a sheep in front of me.

The sheep only died when the knife finally pierced its heart.

The sheep's head was right in front of me, its eyes filled with despair and horror.

Just like me now, knowing my fate.

Halle wiped her hands and tossed the tools to a nearby henchman.

Vincent stood on the second floor, watching leisurely with a glass of red wine in his hand.

His deep voice echoed in the empty warehouse: "Cate, huh? You've been deceiving me for so long. Tell me, what evidence have you gathered? Give it to me, and I'll make your death quick and painless."

I remained silent and engaged in a fight with the men present.

A bullet unexpectedly pierced my scapula, and as I was pressed down on the chopping block, my feet struggled to kick against the ground.

Halle smiled at me and hooked up a bag of drugs to my IV.

"What are you waiting for? Let's begin," she ordered.

I watched in horror as these maniacs slowly dismembered my body.

Although I couldn't feel the pain, the sight was more agonizing than death itself.

After a while, Halle adjusted her hair and said smugly, "I have to go. Matthew's expecting me at the fashion show."

She blew me a kiss, and her eyes were full of triumph and satisfaction.

As they cut open my stomach, Vincent bent down and offered me his phone. "Cate, Matthew's on the line. Quick, ask him to come and save you."

Predictably, the sound of the disconnected call echoed through the warehouse.

He laughed wildly and took away the anesthetic.

The pain started to return to my body, intense and unbearable.

Indescribable agony.

In my final moments of consciousness, only one thought crossed my mind. Matthew, I'm dead now? Are you happy?

Even though I was dead, justice would not be denied.

No one knew where I had hidden the evidence I'd collected.

Halle turned every place I might have gone upside down but came up emptyhanded.

She had no choice but to repeatedly grill Matthew for answers, but he remained tightlipped.

Desperate, Halle turned her attention to Amy Lawrance.

Under the guise of celebrating Matthew's birthday, she invited Amy over.

Amy had been a close friend of my mother's, someone who had watched us grow up.

Matthew, who worked long hours and came home late, was genuinely pleased to see Amy. A rare smile softened his usually stern face. After a few drinks, Amy sighed and asked, "Matthew, after all these years, you still haven't forgiven Cate?

"She's been feeling guilty all this time. The accident wasn't her fault." As Amy spoke, her eyes welled up. "If your parents were still here, they would never have wanted Cate to suffer like this."

Matthew braced his forehead with his hands, his tone cold. "Amy, please don't talk about her."

Amy hesitated for a moment but continued, "We had planned to visit your parents' memorial together, but Cate's been unreachable.

"It's been days. Do you think something could have happened to her? She's just a girl, after all."

Matthew scoffed, "What could happen to her? Death would be a relief."

Halle, ever perceptive, chimed in, "Amy, it's getting late. Let me take you home."

Hearing this made me anxious. The evidence was indeed hidden with Amy.

Halle and Amy chatted for a while, and eventually, Halle even insisted on staying the night at Amy's place.

With no other choice, Amy let her stay in the spare room next door.

Halle, with her keen observational skills and high emotional intelligence, noticed items in the room that belonged to a girl. She circled around, asking, "Does Cate stay here too? Would my staying here upset her?"

Amy shook her head. "She just keeps some seldomused things here. Her own place is too small."

Halle seemed thoughtful. Once Amy left, she began rummaging through the house.

I saw her excitement when she pulled out the flower seal from the drawer—something I cherished deeply.

Fortunately, after just a quick glance, she tossed it aside.

My spirit drifted back to Matthew.

He sat on the balcony, chainsmoking.

The doorbell rang, and he frowned as he went to answer it.

At the door was a young girl with a dolllike face, holding a large cake. "Hi, I'm from Fracake Bakery. Ms. Marsden ordered a cake to pick up personally, but she hasn't come.

"I checked the address and brought it to you. Could you please sign for it?"

Matthew's face was expressionless. "Just throw it away."

He slammed the door shut. I saw him smirk with a trace of mockery. "Trouble doesn't just go away so easily."

His words pierced my heart. I'm sorry. This time, I let you down. The trouble, indeed, has come to pass.