The Anxious Sister

Jack followed Emma into the living room. Emma sat down on the couch, her hands tightly clasped together, her expression fraught with anxiety. Her gaze avoided meeting Jack's, as though she couldn't bear to let him see the fear in her eyes.

Jack sat down across from her, keeping his tone calm and measured. "Can you tell me a bit about your sister's situation recently? Anything unusual?"

Emma lowered her head, tears welling up in her eyes, her face filled with pain and helplessness. Her voice was faint and trembled slightly. "I... I don't know. She was supposed to go to the store, just like usual, but she never came back." Her tone was full of helplessness, her eyes flashing with nervous emotion.

Jack observed her carefully, his eyes sharp. "Has your sister shown any unusual behavior recently? Maybe had an argument with someone? Or interacted with any strangers?"

Emma shook her head slightly, wiping her tears. "I... I don't know. She's always been so kind, so friendly. She wouldn't argue with anyone. She's been at home lately, and I haven't seen her going out to meet anyone." Her voice was full of unease and helplessness, as though she couldn't comprehend why her sister would disappear.

Jack's gaze remained intense, and he stayed silent for a moment, observing her carefully. Her reaction seemed completely in line with someone who had lost a loved one, yet there was still something unsettling about her demeanor. He pressed on, "What's your relationship like with your sister?"

At this question, Emma's gaze softened, and she answered quietly, "We've always been close. I... I'm really worried about her." Her words carried a genuine sorrow, and there was no sign of deception in her tone.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Emma abruptly jumped to her feet, looking slightly flustered. She stammered, "It's... it's Dad. I'll go open the door." She hurried towards the door, her anxiety evident in her quick steps.

Jack stood in the living room, watching her rush off, a slight sense of doubt rising in his mind.

As the door swung open, Jack heard a man's harsh roar: "What are you doing? So slow..." The voice suddenly cut off as the man noticed Jack sitting on the couch. Upon seeing the police badge, a hint of displeasure appeared on his face. His eyes narrowed, and he spoke with an edge to his voice. "A cop? Why is a cop in my house?"

Emma stood by the door, her expression subdued, her gaze flickering. She spoke in a soft voice, "Dad, Rachel hasn't come back for three days. I'm worried about her, so... so I called the police." Her tone was tense, but she didn't seem to be resisting.

The man looked at Emma, then back at Jack, his brow furrowed, clearly irritated. "You foolish girl, she's just gone out for a few days. She's 21, not a child. Why make such a big deal out of this?" His voice grew louder, increasingly impatient.

Jack remained calm. "Sir, I understand your frustration, but this is a missing persons case, and we need to gather the details."

The man's tone didn't soften. He turned to Jack and said, "Sorry, officer, but this little family matter isn't worth wasting police resources on. You can leave now."