Henry followed Leland Burns. “Boss, why did you leave? Didn’t you take a closer look? That body shape and those clothes look a lot like Winifred Dawson… Are you afraid to go and see?”
Leland Burns turned his head, startling Henry. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips pale from tension, and his body was trembling.
He exhaled, his expression easing slightly. “That’s not Winifred Dawson…”
“How can you be sure it’s not her? You didn’t even take a close look. Boss, tell me honestly, are you afraid to accept it, so you don’t want to face it or identify her? Afraid to accept Winifred Dawson’s death and admit she’s gone?” Henry pressed on.
Leland Burns didn’t back down, his tone firm. “I’m not afraid to face it. I’m sure that’s not Winifred Dawson. I’ve been with her for so many years; I could recognize her even if she turned to ashes. So I can confirm that’s not Winifred Dawson.”
He indeed couldn’t face Winifred Dawson’s death. He would rather never find her than confront her corpse.
If he couldn’t find her… at least he could deceive himself into thinking she was still alive. But once he found her body, how could he continue the lie?
When he heard there was a female corpse that might be Winifred Dawson, his hands and feet went numb, and he stumbled as he walked, unable to stand up. For a moment, it felt like the day his mother died when he was ten-suffocating, wrapped in despair, as if the sky had fallen. He prayed countless times in his heart that the body wasn’t Winifred Dawson.
Maybe the heavens really heard him because when he rushed over and took a look, he didn’t need to get close to know it wasn’t Winifred Dawson. No need for verification.
His recognition of Winifred Dawson wasn’t just based on her face; he could distinguish which one was truly her.
…
Henry listened to Leland Burns’ certainty with skepticism but didn’t question him further.
He didn’t believe that mere intuition could identify someone so quickly without a closer look.
The real result would have to wait for the professional police examination. Henry decided to wait for the test results to see if it was really Winifred Dawson.
…
As for Garrison Reeves, he arrived shortly after Leland Burns left; they almost crossed paths.
Garrison Reeves looked at the disfigured woman on the ground and at her familiar clothes. He instinctively thought it was Winifred Dawson but couldn’t believe it.
Garrison Reeves’ understanding of Winifred Dawson was far less than Leland Burns’. Their time together was much shorter, and she had been away from him for a year. Though a year isn’t long, people can still change significantly in that time.
Garrison Reeves couldn’t be sure but recognized the clothes as what she wore before disappearing.
He swayed and nearly fell out of his wheelchair but was caught by an aide in time.
“Mr. Reeves, are you alright?”
Garrison Reeves gripped the aide’s wrist tightly, gritting his teeth in pain. “I’m fine. Push me closer; I need to take a closer look.”
The woman’s body had been floating in the sea for a long time. Even though the weather wasn’t hot anymore, it had decayed and smelled awful, with maggots visible in some places revealing bones.
Any normal person would avoid getting close due to the stench. The staff nearby wore protective suits and masks, while Garrison Reeves had nothing but still approached… The aide hesitated, feeling nauseous and fearing nightmares from the sight alone.
But Garrison Reeves was his boss; disobedience wasn’t an option.
He reluctantly pushed the wheelchair forward step by step, holding his breath as much as possible.
The smell was overwhelming, piercing through his senses. Holding breath indefinitely wasn’t feasible; eventually, his body craved oxygen desperately. As soon as he relaxed his nose, he inhaled deeply out of reflex-only to draw in the stench of decay so foul it made him dizzy.
The aide turned away and retched, tears streaming down his face. After a few gags, he slowly adapted somewhat.
Though still unbearable around him, at least he could endure it now. Glancing at Garrison Reeves through tear-filled eyes,
Garrison Reeves sat quietly in his wheelchair unaffected by the smell or sight of decay before him-his expression blank but focused intently on the corpse as if dissatisfied with their distance; he maneuvered himself closer using the wheelchair controls.
Ignoring surrounding odors was one thing-but how could anyone bear looking directly at such rot?
The aide admired Garrison Reeves’ composure-no wonder he’d become their young boss; such determination was rare indeed.
At this moment,
Garrison Reeves studied that female corpse quietly-not immune to its stench but determined enough for identifying whether or not it was Winifred Dawson-enduring discomfort just for confirmation’s sake
Her level of decay exceeded imagination; initially unable even glance directly,
Closing eyes against horrific images flashing through mind-forcibly recalling happier memories instead-combining both scenes until finally reopening eyes with newfound courage facing reality
No part remained intact enough for judgment-even close inspection or handling yielded nothing conclusive
Sighing heavily,
Body still trembling weakly,
Nodding briefly towards nearby staff member-a silent gesture of thanks before instructing aide push him away from scene
Grateful for permission leave,
Aide hurriedly complied-practically running while pushing wheelchair-fleeing area hastily
After covering considerable distance,
Finally slowing down gasping breaths
Overwhelmed by earlier ordeal-breathing itself felt difficult now-never expecting Garrison Reeves’ willingness approach such horror directly without fear haunting dreams later
In cool tone,
Garrison Reeves remarked: “Pushing me so fast-were you chased by ghosts?”
Indeed haunted by “ghosts” internally-but dared not voice thoughts aloud-instead bowing apologetically muttering apologies towards Garrison Reeves
Tonight’s sleep seemed impossible-with recurring mental images causing involuntary shivers each recall
“Mr. Reeves-that corpse-is it who you’re looking for?”
Silent response met query-furrowed brow never relaxing throughout contemplation-uncertain yet hoping fervently against possibility being Winifred Dawson
Winifred Dawson always cherished beauty-even in death should remain graceful-not reduced decaying ruin devoured maggots-she’d despised such creatures intensely