I was the girl who had already committed suicide by jumping into the river as the police said.
As for Rosalie, she was my twin sister.
Thinking of this, I immediately ran to the mirror.
The moment I saw the woman in the mirror, a chill ran up my spine.
Although the woman in the mirror looked exactly like me, it was not my body at all, but my sister Rosalie's body.
Rosalie had a small scar on her forehead from a childhood injury, which was noticeable upon closer inspection.
I sat on the ground in a daze, not understanding what had happened.
I should have died.
I was killed by my boyfriend.
I couldn't help but recall what had happened on the evening of June 10th.
June 10th was my birthday. Mateo Scott asked me to meet him at the south gate of the college at 10 o'clock in the evening. That was where we first met.
I still remembered that day when I finished tutoring and waited for Mateo at the south gate.
Our college was located halfway up the mountain in a very remote location.
And the south gate was even more remote.
At ten o'clock at night, there was no one except me.
The cold wind blew, and the leaves rustled.
The next second, I heard the sound of an axe rubbing against the cement floor.