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My Wife Pranked Me With Her Severed Hand Novel Cover

My Wife Pranked Me With Her Severed Hand

After eight years of marriage, Alayna Watson’s penchant for childish pranks had become a routine part of her husband's life. He usually dismissed her trick toys without a second thought, but a routine house cleaning uncovers a forgotten box that changes everything. Expecting another joke, he is instead met with a putrid scent and a severed human arm. Following a frantic call to the police, a DNA test delivers a chilling revelation: the limb belongs to his own wife.
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Chapter 4

The moment I heard Alayna's voice, my tears cascaded down. My hands were still shaking, but the crushing weight on my chest suddenly vanished.

Thank God. Alayna wasn't a killer.

But just as I let out a breath of relief, I heard her speak to the officer on the line. "I've been away on this business trip since late March. I never brought home any gift."

A piercing cold swept up from the soles of my feet.

It wasn't her.

Then who was the person I had been intimate with? Was it actually possible to mistake a complete stranger for my wife? That face, that voice…

"Ms. Watson, the 3:00 pm meeting is about to start," Alayna's assistant called out in the background.

"Okay."

Alayna acknowledged her, then spoke back into the receiver, her tone laced with apology. "Officers, I really can't walk away from this right now. The moment this meeting wraps up, I'll book the earliest flight back to cooperate with the investigation.

"Honey, don't be scared. Do whatever the police tell you to do. Officer, please watch over my husband for me. Thank you."

The call disconnected.

I sat there frozen, her words looping relentlessly through my mind. "I never brought home any gift."

My phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the floor, but I didn't even process it.

As the officer bent down to retrieve it, I lunged forward and gripped his arm. "Officer… then who was the person in my house on April Fool's Day? She looked exactly like my wife. We…"

The words caught in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence.

The impostor had walked right into my home, shared my bed, and slept by my side.

Who on earth was she? What did she want? Was she the killer?

The male officer quickly supported my swaying shoulders. "Mr. Collins, for your own safety and to help us move this investigation forward, we need you to come down to the precinct with us right now."

Without a second thought, I agreed instantly.

Walking down the stairs of my building, I practically glued myself to the officers' sides, terrified that something was lurking right behind me.

I scrambled into the back of the police cruiser. Even with the midday sun beating down through the windows, I was shivering.

It wasn't until we reached the precinct and the harsh lights of the interrogation room beamed down on me that the warmth slowly returned to my limbs.

The male officer taking my statement was the same one who came to my house. His name was Ethan Newman.

"How long have you and Alayna been married? How would you describe your relationship?"

I blinked, confused as to why the questions were suddenly centering on my marriage.

Still, I followed his lead and replied, "Eight years. We've always been great. She takes care of me and handles everything around the house so I don't have to worry about a thing. Since I'm a freelancer and don't work a regular job, I don't go out much. I'm pretty dependent on her, and all our neighbors know it."

Ethan nodded before asking, "So do you think the person who impersonated her did a convincing job?"

"Yes," I said, my fingers mindlessly picking at my skin again. "Incredibly convincing. Her voice and even mannerisms were identical. We had a candlelit dinner that night, and the lighting was dim, so I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Officer, you have to find her! She must still be out there somewhere. It's too dangerous!"

Upon hearing this, Ethan suddenly fell silent. He stood up, walked around the table, and looked down at me with a piercing gaze.

"We expanded the perimeter of our surveillance search. Aside from the cameras directly outside your building, none of the traffic or street cameras in the entire surrounding area captured this woman you're describing. Instead, only footage of you coming and going was captured."

He paused, his tone shifting into something deeply solemn. "Are you absolutely certain someone else brought that box into your home, Charlie?"

I sat there entirely paralyzed, my brain completely short-circuiting.

"W-What do you mean?" I stammered. His words floated into my ears but failed to register in my mind.

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