Arnold frowned. "But she is. You should show more care for her. If something happens, you will regret it."

My father sneered, "What can happen to her? She's just so petty. A few days ago, we had a fight because of the house transfer. She's so money-minded and selfish. I bet she's cursing and swearing like a shrew outside. Who would dare to mess with her?"

As I listened to my father's words, my heart ached.

So, this is what he thinks of me.

The house is the only hope left by my mother, which carries all the memories of our family of three in the past.

How can I bear to give it away?

If Dad wants it, he can take it. But why did he give it to Chelsea?

Thinking about it, I laughed at myself and wondered what expression he would have when he found out that the corpse in front of him was me.

He'd probably feel relieved.

Or he'd feel that even though I was punished like this, he still hated my guts.

Arnold wanted to say something else, but my father walked forward coldly and said, "Focus on the case. Don't mind that damn girl."

After they worked for a few hours, my body was almost dissected, and the preliminary analysis was out.

The forensic doctor solemnly covered me with a white cloth, then slowly took off his gloves and said in a deep voice, "The deceased has nearly 300 wounds, and it is almost impossible to find a complete piece of skin. The method is so cruel that it is the first time in my 20-year career.

"This is almost like dismembering!"

After a pause, the forensic doctor continued, feeling distressed, "Not only that, before the deceased was tortured to death, her limbs were broken, and she was injected with a large amount of sedatives. Not a single one of these 300 cuts was fatal. The deceased died of pain before she was drained of blood! I can't imagine what she must have been through."

Listening to the forensic doctor's words, I couldn't help but tremble and hold myself tightly, feeling the overwhelming pain again.

Some of the people around me had lost control of their emotions.

Some were cursing, and some were sighing non-stop.

The police dispersed the surrounding crowd and then brought my body back to the station.

According to the process, a task force must be set up to investigate such vicious cases, and the police needed to use the bureau's monitoring system to investigate.

At the police station door, Chelsea looked around with a lunch box in hand.