Chapter 4

I scrunched up my face, trying to piece together the timeline.

With the year-end review coming up, the Forestry Bureau had everyone working overtime. Alan had been burning the midnight oil for days, getting home around ten every night, messing up his sleep schedule just to make time for today so he could leave early, around 7 PM.

Alan had mentioned the meetup spot, Serene Restaurant, in the southern suburbs of Silverlight City. If it was his turn to treat for a company dinner, he'd usually pick this place because it was quiet and classy.

From the Forestry Bureau to the restaurant, it took about 50 minutes by taxi during rush hour, so he'd get there around 8 PM.

Alan was found at 9 PM at the True Love Entertainment Club. From the time the fire was put out to when the cops found Alan's body, it was about half an hour, so he must've been there before 8:30 PM. If he drove from Serene Restaurant to the city center, there wouldn't be enough time.

There was only one possibility: Alan never went to Serene Restaurant. Judging by the outcome, it was more likely he went straight to True Love Entertainment Club.

According to Joseph, witnesses at the scene claimed they didn't know Alan.

I wasn't sure if Joseph's info was reliable. With my years of experience as a prosecutor, I knew to take sudden info with a grain of salt. But one thing was clear: Alan didn't go to the restaurant; he went straight to True Love Entertainment Club.

The worst part was the possibility that Alan had lied to me. But why?

I was racking my brain, trying to sort out my thoughts, and before I knew it, I was at the bottom of my apartment building.

I glanced at the time, 3 AM.

I took a deep breath, mustered up the courage to open the door, and turned on the living room light.

I wished Alan was sitting on the couch, dozing off, waiting for me to come back from overtime, and then groggily going to the kitchen to bring out some warm food, saying, "You're back. Hurry and eat something before resting."

But there was nothing.

The shoe cabinet by the door had shoes neatly arranged on it; cups were around the dining table, with his favorite nuts on it, and the couch cushions were in their usual places... but he was not there.

My throat felt tight, and my lips started to tremble uncontrollably.

Alan's death was too suspicious. I couldn't just accept it without investigating. It would be irresponsible to him and to myself.

I wasn't the kind of woman who just accepted fate, who collapsed mentally after her husband's death, blaming the heavens but not questioning the cause of death, letting time gradually erase everything.

I was a legal worker, a former prosecutor, and the editor-in-chief of a legal journal. I needed to investigate this thoroughly.

I made up my mind, closed Alan's study, and took out the bedding from the bedroom, throwing it on the couch.

I needed to control my memories of Alan as much as possible, avoiding his study and the places we used to be together.

An emotional breakdown like last night couldn't happen again. I had to be ready to switch roles.

Then, I made a plan.

First, I'd keep Alan's death from my dad for a while. My mom passed away a few years ago, and my dad had always treated Alan like his own son. If he heard the bad news suddenly, I wouldn't be able to comfort him until I figured things out.

Second, I'd visit the Forestry Bureau tomorrow to ask about Alan's recent state. I had a vague feeling that Alan had been hiding a lot from me.

Lastly, I had to find a way to contact Alan's other three classmates and ask if they were present at the scene. I couldn't fully trust Joseph's words.

Alan often mentioned these four classmates, saying they were his best friends in college. I wasn't familiar with them in college, having only met them a couple of times, including at our wedding. Over the years, everyone got busy and contact became less frequent.

Given this, I needed to figure out why Laura would kill Alan, what their relationship was, and why Joseph didn't mention that Laura was the killer if he knew Alan from college.

Lost in thought, I fell asleep unknowingly.

In my dream, memories of our confessions, first night together, wedding, and snippets of our life flashed by like a slideshow. The scene cut to the end, with Alan looking at me with tearful eyes, as if he had a thousand things to say, but behind him was a sea of fire. He shouted loudly, "Nancy, don't come over. Leave quickly!"

"Alan!" I screamed, my foot slipping, and I fell into an abyss. I shivered from the cold, and a sharp pain shot through my elbow.

I woke up lying on the floor, the blanket kicked off. The pain I felt moments ago was from my elbow striking the table.

I liked to turn over in my sleep, often falling out of bed as a child. After we got married, Alan moved the bed to the corner and slept on the outside to block me.

I checked my phone. It was 8 AM.

There was a text message from the property management about paying the heating bill.

No matter how warm the house was, it only felt truly warm when Alan was here with me. My heart ached, and I deleted the message.

This pain was incomparable to physical pain.

Today was Friday. Normally, Alan and I would visit my dad tomorrow. I immediately sent a text: [Dad, I'm on a business trip and Alan is accompanying me. We will visit you next week.]

Soon, he replied: [OK! Hurry up and have a baby.]

My heart sank, and I replied with an OK and a grinning face emoji.

Then, I quickly washed up, grabbed my car keys, and headed to the Forestry Bureau.

Alan was a public servant, so if something happened, his superiors should have been notified immediately.

Sure enough, when I walked into the Forestry Bureau director's office, I found Henry Miller already waiting for me.

Henry was about to retire. When he saw me come in, he put on his glasses, stood up, and with a sorrowful expression, said in a deep voice, "Alan..."

As he spoke, tears welled up in his eyes, and he propped himself on the table as if he might collapse at any moment.

He continued, "Alan has always been a model employee in our Forestry Bureau. I was grooming him as my successor, but I never expected..."

I sneered inwardly, 'Alan has been in the Forestry Bureau for seven years without even being promoted to deputy section chief, and now he's suddenly a successor? What kind of leaders are these?'

"Alan often spoke highly of you." I replied nonchalantly. What he thought was his own business. Then I got straight to the point, "Mr. Miller, I believe there are many suspicious points regarding Alan's death. I'm here to understand Alan's recent situation at the bureau. Has there been anything unusual?"

Hearing this, Henry adjusted his glasses, visibly relieved.

I felt even more contemptuous and mocked inwardly, 'Did he think I'm here to demand someone?'

Henry made a phone call, his voice unusually stern, "Mr. Wilson, please come to my office immediately!"

About five minutes later, John Wilson, Alan's department head, arrived at the office. When he saw me, he visibly shrank.

John was a former leader at the city's Social Security Administration. A few years ago, he was caught by the prosecutor's office for soliciting prostitutes, which also uncovered corruption issues. I handled that case. Due to his minor involvement and insufficient evidence, he was just demoted internally and transferred to the Forestry Bureau through connections.

"Mrs. Smith... long time no see." John looked a bit uneasy, repeatedly making small talk.

"Has Alan shown any unusual behavior recently?" I asked directly.

I didn't need to be polite to him. After all, he had retaliated against me by specifically choosing Alan's department to lead, and had been critical of Alan for years. This was one of the reasons I left the prosecutor's office.

John hesitated, glanced at Henry, seemingly seeking some information. It appeared he didn't know about Alan's death. I cleared my throat, and he immediately came to his senses and replied, "Alan hasn't shown any unusual behavior recently. He has been working as excellently as always, coming and going on time."

I felt disgusted by his cowardly behavior. But then I realized something was off because John mentioned that Alan came and went on time.

"Aren't you all working overtime recently for the year-end summary report?" I asked, adopting my prosecutor's authority, glancing at Henry, and staring at John. No detail could escape my eyes.

John replied, "Absolutely, the year-end materials were completed last month. This month, we've been working regular hours. If you don't believe me, you can ask others in the bureau."

My heart skipped a beat. Alan had really lied to me.

Then what had he been doing all this time?