Chapter 141

Luminol's eerie reaction made blood glow even in the pitch-black night. The forensic team sprayed the area, revealing blood patterns like a ghostly map.

The forensic scientist spent the night piecing together the scene from the sparse blood remnants. As I stared at those jagged traces, memories flooded back: holding my side, stemming the bleeding, frantically dialing Chase's number, desperate for him to answer. My strength failing, I collapsed near the riverbank—explaining the pooling blood there. Robert studied the reconstructed bloodstains, a storm of emotions in his eyes. The forensic scientist explained, "It's fortunate it was winter, the river low. No floods, only snowfalls. Some blood seeped into the sand and stone. The culprit likely believed the water would wash it away, but justice leaves its marks."

"Have you compared them?"

"Yes, they match the blood on the wedding dress. It's Amanda's."

Robert turned, following the blood trail stretching several yards. "She was stabbed over there and managed to run all this way, bleeding the entire time."

"That's what it indicates. Amanda weighed around 110 pounds, with a blood volume of approximately 3500-4000 mL. Even without vital organ damage, she would have bled out. Her survival chances were slim."

"What did you say?" Chase burst in, eyes blazing. He grabbed the forensic scientist's collar, his anger evident.

"Mr. Reyes, please don't interfere with our investigation. I must ask you to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." Chase shoved the officer aside.

Robert, both angry and embarrassed, said, "Mr. Reyes, over a month ago, you showed no concern for your wife's fate. Now you feign heartbreak. Who are you trying to fool?" He yanked Chase's coat, pointing at the blood trail. "Open your eyes! Amanda was stabbed and bled all the way here. She couldn't have survived!"

Chase looked at the remaining traces. Most of my blood had faded, yet enough remained to show the extent of my blood loss that night.

Robert released him, and Chase's knees buckled. He sank to the spot where I had fallen, reaching out, trembling. "Amanda…"

"Mr. Reyes, please don't contaminate the scene." Someone caught his hand.

Tears streamed down Chase's face. He stammered, "She called me that night, begging for help, saying she was dying…"

In anguish, Chase slapped himself repeatedly. "I was just across the river, setting off fireworks. I didn't know. I truly didn't. I thought Amanda was joking…"

He continued to strike himself, seemingly insensible to the pain. His body shook violently. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice raw with grief. He knelt, whispering, "Amanda, you're dead. How am I supposed to live now?"