Chapter 7: The Truth Buried in Wild Valley

The DNA samples were collected before my family could leave the police station.

My mother kept insisting that there had to be some mistake.

"Whitney wouldn't die out there," she muttered. "She's always been careful."

My father remained silent.

For once, he had nothing to say.

Flynn sat beside him, staring at the floor.

Only Scarlett kept wiping away tears.

"Maybe she's still alive," she whispered.

I looked at her and felt nothing.

Two months ago, those words might have given me hope.

Now they meant nothing.

The officer eventually dismissed them, telling them to wait for the identification results.

On the drive home, no one spoke.

The silence was so heavy that even Flynn stopped turning on the radio.

When they arrived, my mother immediately rushed upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom.

I followed her.

She opened our old chat history again.

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through my messages.

The last message I had ever sent her was still there.

"Mom, please call me. I'm scared."

She stared at those words for a long time.

Then she opened the voice message she had sent me after that.

"Get back home by tomorrow, and I can arrange for you to move back in with us. If you keep hiding, I swear I'll sever our ties!"

Her own voice echoed through the room.

My mother suddenly covered her mouth.

I had never seen her look so frightened.

"I didn't know," she whispered.

"I didn't know she was in danger."

But I wanted to ask her one question.

How could you have known?

You never listened.

You never believed me.

You never even answered when I called for help.

Downstairs, Scarlett was crying into Flynn's shoulder.

"It's my fault," she sobbed.

Flynn immediately shook his head.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything."

My mother's footsteps suddenly stopped at the staircase.

She had heard them.

"What do you mean, it's your fault?" she asked.

Scarlett froze.

"I... I just mean that if I hadn't fallen into the water that day, none of this would've happened."

My mother's expression softened immediately.

"Don't blame yourself. Whitney chose to leave."

I stared at my mother in disbelief.

Even now, she was protecting Scarlett.

My father walked into the room holding his phone.

"The police called."

Everyone turned toward him.

"They found another clue in Wild Valley."

His voice was unusually low.

"What clue?" my mother asked.

"A torn piece of Whitney's jacket was found near the ravine where the body was discovered."

My mother staggered backward.

Flynn's face went pale.

Scarlett stopped crying.

No one spoke.

Then my father's phone rang again.

It was the police.

He answered with trembling fingers.

"Mr. Patterson, the identification results are ready."

My father's face changed instantly.

"What did you find?"

The officer's voice was quiet but firm.

"The remains recovered from Wild Valley belong to your daughter, Whitney Patterson."

My father dropped the phone.

It hit the floor with a sharp crack.

My mother's knees gave out.

"No..." she whispered.

"That can't be true."

Flynn stood completely still.

Scarlett's face became as white as paper.

And I watched them finally hear the truth I had been carrying alone for two months.

I was dead.

I had been dead all along.

And they had only just remembered to look for me.