Chapter 187 Stolen Years, Burned Truth

Chapter 187 Stolen Years, Burned Truth

Gwyneth studied Kieran's face, the way his eyes lingered on her with that familiar, almost aching tenderness. Yet inside, she felt nothing. Not a flicker. Her lips curved into a cold smile, her gaze slicing into him like a blade.

"Kieran," she said, her voice as sharp as her eyes, "do you really think a few sweet words are enough to make me obey you like I used to?"

The smile on his face faltered. He had never seen her like this—so calm, so distant, so utterly unfamiliar.

"Gwyneth, don't be like this," he pleaded. "I know I was wrong before, but in my heart, it's always been you. Only you."

Her laugh was short and humorless. "I've heard enough of your sweet talk. Now… let's see something real."

"Real?" He scratched the back of his head. "Tell me what you want. Whatever I have, it's yours."

She nodded once. "Fine. Your salary card. The deeds to your properties. Every bit of cash you've stashed away. All of it."

His mouth twitched, but he didn't argue. Moving quickly, he gathered his ID, bank cards, passbooks, and even the emergency cash hidden in the false bottom of his desk drawer. Last, he placed two property deeds on the table.

"These are for the apartments I bought in Silverlight City. One's still under mortgage, but I've been saving my entire salary each month. The money's yours to spend as you wish. As for the deeds, whenever you're ready, I'll have them transferred into your name."

Gwyneth's brows lifted, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as she looked over her spoils.

"Not bad," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face. "You're learning. But if you've handed over even your private savings, how will you manage day-to-day?"

Kieran stood there, looking more than a little aggrieved. "I'll just ask you. It's not like I spend much anyway. As long as you're happy, I'll do anything. Besides, I've got investments bringing in steady returns."

Years ago, one of his college friends had started a tech company, and Kieran had invested a chunk of money to help out. That investment had made him a shareholder, and the company's success over the years had brought in a comfortable income. It was enough for him to buy two apartments in Silverlight City—though for one of them, he'd had to take out a loan.

Gwyneth finally nodded, a trace of genuine approval softening her expression.

She tossed the property deeds back to him. She didn't care about them—she had her own—but she kept the money and the cards.

"Perfect. Now I can finally go shopping with Olivia."

Kieran could only shake his head, half exasperated, half amused. But seeing her so alive, so vibrant, filled him with an odd warmth. This was the Gwyneth he remembered—the one who laughed and schemed and felt real.

"Go ahead," he said. "Spend it all if you want. As long as you're happy."

Her grin turned sly. "Don't worry. I won't go easy on you."

She left with a spring in her step, and Kieran watched her go, helpless and smiling despite himself.

Across the way, Olivia had seen it too—the light in Gwyneth's eyes, the joy that was genuine. She let out a quiet sigh. Maybe this was fate.

She was about to head home when Alton came running in.

"Olivia, we've got a new case. They need you."

She nodded and followed him to the forensics department. If they were calling her in, it meant the case needed a medical examiner's expertise.

"Ms. Smith," a technician said, handing her a tray, "these are the bone fragments we recovered from the scene. We searched a thousand-foot radius and found only these. The rest was destroyed in the fire."

Olivia picked up a fragment with tweezers, holding it under the light. Judging from the coloration, it belonged to a young adult. Among the remains, she found a relatively intact finger bone. Measuring its length and examining its density, she estimated the victim's age and build.

"Male, between seventeen and twenty-three years old. Height between five-foot-eight and six-foot-one. No signs of poisoning. Time of death is roughly a week ago. Given the current weather, the degree of carbonization, and the lingering smell of burnt flesh, this was a body disposal by fire."

"Start checking nearby towns and villages for missing persons," she ordered.

Alton nodded and left. Olivia moved into the lab, working with the other examiners to extract DNA from the charred remains. Once they had a viable sample, they ran it through the database.

The match came back faster than she expected.

Alton brought her the report, looking grim. "According to the DNA match, the victim could be Kevin Graham—abducted eighteen years ago. The Missing Persons Unit is notifying his parents now."

Olivia's stomach tightened. For parents who had searched for nearly two decades, to finally find their son only to receive a handful of blackened bones… it was beyond cruel.

"The case isn't closed yet," she said quietly. "Make sure the family is supported. See if they can give us anything useful."

Taking her kit, she headed back to the scene. Unlike the winter burn case she'd handled before—where cold, dry weather had preserved much of the evidence—this one was in summer. Days of heavy rain had scoured the site, making her job nearly impossible.

Still, she crouched low, scanning every inch. Not a twig or leaf went unchecked. After nearly five hours in the sweltering heat, she finally spotted something in a drainage ditch—a walking cane and a work ID badge stained with blood. The badge's lettering was blurred by rain, but the photo was still clear.

"Give it to me," one of the techs said. "I can restore it."

Olivia nodded. At least their hours of work hadn't been for nothing. She herself was on the verge of heat exhaustion.

Back at the precinct, she saw Kevin's parents. Their hair had gone white, their faces worn and sunken. Kevin's father looked ill, his skin sallow; his mother seemed even more aged, clutching a faded childhood photo of her son as they wept uncontrollably.

Olivia forced herself to look away, leading the forensics team to restore the badge.

Soon, the photo emerged clearly enough to run through the system. The name came back quickly.

"Lloyd Wallace. Male. Twenty-two. Bachelor's degree in finance from Silverlight University. Currently an intern at a domestic tech company."

The badge data was also restored, and the police contacted the company. They confirmed Lloyd had been interning there, but had taken leave seven days ago and never returned.

"What reason did he give for the leave?" Olivia asked.

"Said his parents were sick and he needed to care for them. He asked for three days, but it's been a week. His phone's been off."

Olivia's frown deepened. Something was wrong.

"Go to his adoptive parents' home. Now."

Alton took a team and left. Olivia glanced at the address—an old apartment complex in the city center. She knew the area. Property there was worth a fortune. Whoever his adoptive parents were, they had money.