“Shannon,” the voice on the other end said, “we’ve got the footage from the day of the hostage rescue. But someone had tampered with it, so you can’t see the actual scenario of the hostage rescue. But we’re working on pulling videos from other people’s devices. As soon as we have results, we’ll contact you right away.”
They paused before adding firmly, “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you get justice.”
I exhaled slowly, some of the tension in my chest loosening. Then I handed the signed divorce papers to my superior for approval.
That afternoon, I planned to go out and choose a burial site for my daughter. But the moment I stepped outside, I could feel the stares, full of judgment and disgust.
“That’s her,” someone whispered loudly. “She reported her own husband just because she was jealous. Max is such a brilliant bomb disposal expert, yet his career might be over because of her.”
“Yeah, she’s always been unstable, paranoid about everyone. Now that her daughter’s dead, she’s even worse.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s the reason her kid died. Imagine having a mother like that. What a miserable life.”