The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 312: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Suspect

In the dimly lit police station, the hum of computers filled the room as Katrina reclined in her chair, her sharp heels resting on the edge of the desk. A flickering surveillance video played on her monitor, the loop repeating again and again. Her lips curled into a sly grin, and her fingers drummed lazily on the table. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"Hey, Christopher," she drawled, not bothering to look over her shoulder.

A voice, laced with irritation, cut through the hum. "It’s Kaira, ma’am." The woman stepped into the light, her yellowish hair catching the glow of the monitor.

Katrina waved a dismissive hand, her grin widening. "Ah, Christopher, Kaira—does it matter?"

Kaira’s teeth clenched, her jaw tightening visibly, but she kept her tone neutral. "Miss Katrina, why are you smiling?"

Katrina’s gaze stayed fixed on the screen as her grin turned wicked. "Why do you think, genius?" She tapped her fingernail against the monitor, then leaned back, her head tilted with an almost theatrical air. "Look at this video and tell me if something catches your brilliant eye."

Kaira stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the grainy footage. A man entered the frame, his movements subtle but seemingly ordinary. She frowned, watching intently, but nothing out of the ordinary stood out. She finally shook her head and said, "I don’t see anything, ma’am. What am I supposed to—"

Katrina let out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the room like a knife. "Of course, you don’t." She turned in her chair, her piercing gaze locking onto Kaira. "That, my dear, is exactly why you’re stuck as a sub-inspector."

The words hit like a slap, and Kaira’s fists curled at her sides. Her chest rose and fell as she swallowed back a sharp retort. The sting of humiliation burned, but so did her resolve. "What is it then, ma’am?" she asked, her tone steady but cold.

Katrina smirked, spinning back to the screen with the air of someone about to unveil a grand secret. She pointed to the top corner of the frame, where a clock on the wall read 11:15 AM. "Look at the time."

Kaira’s eyes narrowed at the paused video on the screen. She pointed at the timestamp displayed in the corner. "It’s showing 11:15 AM. That’s the exact time the accident happened, ma’am."

Katrina tilted her head, a slow, mocking smile spreading across her lips. She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward with an air of exaggerated patience. "Oh, Miss Genius," she began, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did I ask you to state the obvious? No. I said—look at the person."

With a dramatic flair, Katrina hit play on the video, freezing it at the precise moment Ryan stepped into the hallway, his bag slung over one shoulder. He looked like he was in a rush, just about to enter Ray’s room.

Kaira squinted, her confusion evident. "I still don’t see what’s wrong..."

Katrina let out a sharp, theatrical sigh and stood abruptly, pacing in front of the desk as if trying to calm herself. "This," she said, gesturing wildly at the screen, "is why I despise people who think good grades mean good sense. You’re like a computer—only useful if someone tells you where to click!"

She stormed back to the desk, her heels clicking with authority. "Fine, let me spell it out for you," she snapped, zooming in on Ryan’s wrist.

"There!" Katrina jabbed a finger at the image of Ryan’s watch.

Kaira leaned closer, her eyes darting to the digital display. The time read 11:15 AM—correct. But then her gaze shifted slightly, and her breath hitched. The date on the watch wasn’t today’s.

"The date..." she murmured, her voice trembling. "It’s showing yesterday. December 26th."

Katrina’s smirk deepened, her expression one of triumph. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as if waiting for Kaira to catch up.

"But that’s..." Kaira stammered, her mind racing. "How could his watch show yesterday’s date if this video was recorded during the accident?"

Katrina chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing. "Exactly. Now you’re using your brain. Welcome to the real mystery."

"But... maybe the watch is broken?" Kaira suggested weakly, grasping at straws.

Katrina scoffed, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her leather jacket. She slung it over her shoulders with a sharp, fluid motion. "Broken? Sure. Let’s call it that and go home," she said, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Or—here’s a thought—how about we confirm it?"

She headed for the door, her movements brisk and purposeful.

"Wait!" Kaira called after her, scrambling to keep up. "Where are we going?"

Katrina stopped at the threshold, turning just enough to cast a sly, almost predatory smile over her shoulder. "Where else? To pay our dear Miss Esme a little visit."

The way she said Esme’s name sent a chill down Kaira’s spine. It wasn’t just a plan—it was a challenge. Whatever Katrina suspected, it was clear she already had pieces of the puzzle lined up.

.

.

.

.

The grand Aron Mansion was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of curtains as a soft breeze filtered through the open windows. Esme tiptoed out of Ray’s secret room, her face composed in a carefully crafted mask of grief. Inside, her five-months-pregnant husband lay sound asleep, his features serene as he succumbed to the drowsiness that had taken over his life since his sixth month had begun. He was adorable, and Esme had to fight the urge to swoon every time she saw him.

She adjusted her posture, wiped the corners of her eyes for effect, and descended the grand staircase. The performance was about to begin. As Esme reached the hall, Kai and Jay appeared, their expressions cold and indifferent. They played the role of her enemies flawlessly, their body language sharp and accusatory. Ryan, meanwhile, sat off to the side, his head buried in his hands, exuding sorrow so convincingly that even Esme felt a pang of pride at their teamwork.

Esme moved to the center of the room, where a large portrait of her and Ray together rested on an ornate table.