Murder, Rewind

I slept like a log and stretched out lazily when I woke up.

Just as I stepped outside, I ran into my wife and child heading back after playing in the water. Seeing their bright, carefree smiles, I finally let out a breath I did not realize I was holding.

Then, in the very next second, the familiar flash of red and blue lights cut through the air, sirens wailing.

My grip on my wife's hand tightened instinctively as I ran through possibilities in my mind.

However, the scene was far too familiar. Deep down, I already knew–there was no escaping this.

Sure enough, they surrounded me again. Without another word, they forced me to the ground.

"Mr. Arthur Hayes, correct? You're suspected of murder and disposing of a body. The circumstances are severe. Please cooperate with our investigation."

In my previous life, I was completely caught off guard–panicked, overwhelmed–shouting my innocence as they dragged me away.

In the end, I never even gave myself a chance to prove anything.

However, this time, thinking of my parents and my child, the ones I dragged down with me, I could not make the same mistake again.

I steadied myself and spoke calmly, presenting my case.

"Officer, there must be some mistake. I've been at the guesthouse the entire afternoon until now. My family can confirm that, and there should be surveillance footage at the guesthouse as well."

"And my car has been parked there the whole time–it hasn't moved all afternoon."

Hannah quickly backed me up.

"That's right. My husband had altitude sickness as soon as we arrived and has been resting the whole time. I took our child out so we wouldn't disturb him–that's why we stayed out so late."

The officer, however, looked unimpressed.

"You were out the whole time. How would you know he stayed in the room?"

The guesthouse owner hurried over with footage from the lobby cameras.

"This gentleman hasn't left since he checked in. Could there be some kind of mistake?"

The officer raised an eyebrow.

"They're staying on the first floor. What about the cameras outside the window?"

The owner froze, at a loss.

"Well, some guests complained that the exterior cameras invaded their privacy. Business is hard enough out here in the mountains, so we removed them."

The officer gave a knowing smile, his gaze sharpening as it fell on me.

"I've seen plenty of suspects like you–cunning enough to leave behind just enough ambiguous evidence to fake an alibi. You think that's enough to walk free?"

He stepped closer, voice cold.

"The surveillance network has already captured a clear image of your face. Facial recognition confirmed your identity. There's also an eyewitness who saw you dumping the suitcase. What else do you have to say for yourself?"

He popped open the trunk.

Inside–just like before–were the same bloodstains and the murder weapon.

In the dashcam footage, there was a full recording of me driving along with the unmistakable sound of me talking intimately with a woman I did not recognize.