Their Perfect Lie, My Unseen Truth

Tentu, saya akan menambahkan POV (Point of View) ke setiap bab sesuai dengan permintaan Anda, tanpa mengubah format atau konten lainnya. My parents stood over my unrecognizable body in the marsh, complaining that I hadn't returned their calls. To my father, the lead detective, and my mother, the Chief Medical Examiner, I was just another "Jane Doe" who made bad life choices. While I watched as a ghost, my mother scoffed at the silver bracelet on my wrist-the one I made for her-calling it "tacky street trash." They spent the morning dissecting my injuries, all while praising my adopted sister, Hope, and grumbling about how I was "acting out" by missing her violin recital. They called me irresponsible and ungrateful, unaware that I had been kidnapped and murdered as revenge for one of my father's old cases. I screamed silently as they dismissed my death as the result of a "rebellious lifestyle." The insults only stopped when they found the waterproof capsule in my stomach. My father' s hands trembled as he read the note inside: "An eye for an eye, Detective Hood." Then, my mother saw the scar on my flank-the unmistakable mark of the kidney donation I had given to their perfect daughter.

Chapters

Chapter 6

Fawn POV

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Irresponsible. Avoiding. Just being Fawn. Their casual dismissal, their ingrained judgment, it was a familiar ache that twisted my spectral insides. For them, I was always the problem, the inconvenience, the one who didn't fit.

I remembered the first time I felt it, the crushing weight of their disapproval. I was seven, and Hope had just come home. She was a delicate porcelain doll, all curls and wide, innocent eyes. My parents, wrapped in a cocoon of adoration, showered her with affection. I, with my scraped knees and perpetually mud-stained clothes, felt like a wild, untamed thing in their pristine home.

"Fawn," Deborah had sighed, pulling Hope onto her lap, "look at you. Your clothes are dirty again. Why can't you be more like your sister, clean and proper?"

Hope, from the safety of Deborah's embrace, had stuck out her tongue at me. I'd stormed off, feeling a familiar sting behind my eyes.

Now, almost two decades later, the sting was still there. It resonated with the police officers' hushed whispers, their glances towards my parents.

"Can you believe they didn't even file a missing persons report for their own daughter?" one officer murmured to another, his voice low but audible to my disembodied ears. "If it was anyone else, they'd be tearing the city apart."

"Yeah," the other replied, shaking his head. "Guess some families are just... different. Or some kids are just easier to forget."

Easier to forget. The phrase echoed my deepest fear, my lifelong reality. I was the ghost in their lives even before I became one in death.

Deborah, still pale, clutched at Erasmo's arm. "Erasmo, this can't be Fawn. Our Fawn would never... she would never end up like this. She's strong. She's survived worse."

She was talking about the time, years ago, when I was kidnapped briefly by a low-level thug Erasmo had put away. Back then, they had moved heaven and earth to find me. Back then, I was still their daughter, young enough to be 'innocent,' not yet 'rebellious.' The memory was a cruel irony now. They had looked for me then, worried about me then. Now? Now they just assumed I was off 'acting out.'

Erasmo, his eyes scanning the details of the missing persons report that Miller had handed him, looked distant. "She has a way of finding trouble, Deb. Always has. But... not like this. This is too much."

I regret coming home, I thought, the words hollow, devoid of the emotion they once held. I should have stayed away. Should have cut all ties, like my friend suggested. Then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be happening.

I had always believed, deep down, that despite everything, I was still a Hood. Still a Bishop. That I had a place, however tenuous, in their family. But even in death, I was just a Jane Doe, a cautionary tale to be dismissed. My ownership of the family name was just a technicality. Hope owned their hearts.

"Here it is," Erasmo muttered, his voice hoarse, as he looked at the waterlogged note again. He gently handed the fragile, corroded piece of paper to the forensic technician, his hands trembling slightly. "See if you can salvage anything from this. It's from the victim's stomach."

Deborah, still in a state of shock, rubbed her temples. "My head is throbbing. I feel sick."

Erasmo reached out, a rare, almost tender gesture, and squeezed her shoulder. "You should go home, Deb. Get some rest. Kyle, you too. You both look like death warmed over."

Kyle, his face still pale with dread, cleared his throat. "I... I can't leave. Not yet. I need to know. Besides, I just called Dad's house. Hope... she's locked herself in her room. She heard the news reports." He looked at Deborah, a silent question in his eyes. "Should I go check on her? Make sure she's alright?"

Deborah just nodded, her eyes distant, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Continue to next part

Naomi Ray would do anything to prevent her mother from dying in the hospital even though it involves stealing A fifty million dollars worth cufflinks from her best friend boss. What happens when this man turn out to be someone more dangerous than she thought. Enzo Vitale is a ruthless billionaire boss, who doesn't show mercy and he is the talk of the town. Everyone says he is dangerous, and had never seen him up close before. Until Naomi Ray made the most terrible mistake stealing from him.

Action Billionaire Modern

9.3

Ex - Husband's Late Redemption

9.3

After the divorce, I took my bruised and exhausted self to a charming little town in the south. I assumed a new identity, got a different phone, and cut all connections with my frenetic life in London. Everyone thought I had died in that notorious crisis that rocked the military world. For three years, white lilies appeared on my grave without fail. Then, one day, the glass door of my café swung open, and in walked someone I knew. Stunned, he asked why I hadn't returned if I was still alive. Didn't I know that Graham Ortiz had been consumed with guilt over me, nearly ending his own life? Graham Ortiz, my ex-husband, was a military man who had a rivalry spanning more than twenty years with a fellow soldier. They had vowed never to marry, battling each other until old age. But Graham fell in love with me the moment he saw me, pursued me tirelessly, and eventually, I became his wife.

Action Modern Romance

9.1

FRACTURED Goodness

9.1

Amélie Rousseau grows up believing that honesty, hard work, and faith will save her from poverty. Paris proves her wrong. Despite her brilliance, every door stays closed-until the day Clara Duval, the woman Amélie once helped, steals her future through lies, favors, and corruption. When Amélie dares to speak up, the system silences her and laughs. That is when Monsieur Lefèvre offers her a way out. Under his guidance, Amélie learns the true language of power-deception, loyalty, and sacrifice. One lie leads to another, and soon she rises in the same world that once rejected her. But Julien Moreau, the man who loves the girl she used to be, watches her change. At the height of her success, Amélie must choose: destroy Julien to protect her empire, or expose the corruption and lose everything. Because in Paris, goodness is not free- and survival always demands a price.

Action Adventure LitRPG

7.2

Give Me Your Life, My Beloved Wife

7.2

She is a cunning princess. She accidentally binds the wrong person, causing the devil to come. He is a ruthless business leader. A contract imprisons her, and a game called revenge begins. He hated her, but he refused to kill her... Love is a poison. Although it was highly toxic, Alice still looked up and drank it. Her life has three memories. They only cry for that man and laugh for that man.

Action Modern Romance

7.3

He Chose The Nanny, I Chose Revenge

7.3

Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom. When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic. But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead. Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch. "She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind. From that moment, the nightmare only escalated. Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip. The final humiliation came at the Met Gala. Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack. He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom. Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid. She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry. Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child? Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow. Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her. "A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand. Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury. She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.

Action Modern Mystery

7.1

Her Vicious Art, His Dark Obsession

7.1

For ten years, my family kept me locked away, forcing me to play the part of a broken, mentally unstable girl. They controlled me with sedatives and treated me like a ghost in my own home, a prisoner in a gilded cage. But I had a secret. I was a world-famous anonymous artist with a hidden fortune, and I had an escape plan. On the day of my cousin's wedding, my rebellion was accidentally witnessed by a dangerous stranger who saw the predator beneath my fragile mask. To silence him, I dragged him into a dark closet. The encounter turned raw and reckless, a violent collision I used as the perfect cover for my escape. I vanished with a new name and a one-way ticket to a new life, leaving him with nothing but a bloodstain and the bitter taste of betrayal. I thought I was free, that I had successfully buried the girl I was forced to be and the man I was forced to use. Three months later, on a superyacht in Monaco, he found me. He wasn't just some wealthy guest; he was the ruthless head of a powerful crime syndicate, and I was trapped in his private penthouse. He locked the door, his eyes black with possessive rage. "The game is over," he whispered. "This time, you're not running."

Action Billionaire Mystery

Their Perfect Lie, My Unseen Truth

Chapter 6

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