The Search

After David was taken away, Jack and the other officers began to search the house. The furnishings inside were somewhat old, and the rooms were filled with clutter. The air had a faint musty smell. Jack didn't rush into the investigation but instead took the time to carefully observe every detail, trying to find any valuable clues within the everyday surroundings.

They first entered Rachel's room. The room was simple yet carried the marks of a young girl, much like any other teenager's room, filled with a youthful innocence. In the corners of the room, there were some irregular items piled up, and the walls were decorated with a few school and travel photos. On the bed, several books and magazines were scattered in disarray.

Jack scanned the room, his gaze sharp as if every inch of the space could be hiding a clue. He spoke in a low voice, "Make sure to check every corner, see if there's anything unusual."

Emma stood by the side, her hands unconsciously clutching her sleeves, her gaze always lowered, unwilling to meet the eyes of the room. Jack noticed her gaze instinctively flickering towards under the bed. He frowned slightly and asked, "Is there something under the bed?"

Emma glanced at the bed with a slight flinch, her voice almost inaudible. "I... I saw Rachel looking for something under the bed once. I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me. She told me not to mind my own business." Her tone was low and hesitant, as though avoiding something.

Jack didn't respond immediately but gave a subtle signal to one of the officers, who immediately crouched down and began to check under the bed. After a moment, the officer pulled out a cardboard box.

The others gathered around, and Jack took the box, carefully going through its contents. Inside, there was a worn-out doll, two delicately crafted bracelets, and a few common trinkets typical of a young girl's collection. Jack continued to sift through the box until he pulled out a yellowed diary.

He opened the diary, and the first page had a date from four years ago. "I'm about to go to college, I'm so excited. What should I prepare? Oh, I must bring my cute little blanket." The few lines of writing conveyed the excitement and anticipation of a young girl facing the future.

The next few pages were filled with everyday musings. "Swimming is so relaxing. Poor Emma, her swimming style is like a big frog, LOL." These words reflected Rachel's lively, cheerful personality, like a young girl with simple, happy days ahead.

But soon, the tone of the diary turned somber. "How could Mom drown? She was such a good swimmer! ... Yesterday, Emma told me that Mom and Dad were arguing again, and she was really scared. Could Mom have been so upset that she..."

Jack paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Emma, who seemed to flinch, a brief flash of pain crossing her face. She still kept her head lowered, not daring to look at Jack. He continued turning the pages.

"I'm really sad Mom is gone, but Dad doesn't seem as upset. He wouldn't let us say goodbye to her body. My poor mom. We didn't even get to see her one last time."

"Today, Emma called me, crying, saying that Dad hit her again. Since Mom died, Dad's condition seems to have gotten worse. Poor Emma, when I'm not home, she has to face Dad alone. No, I can't let him keep doing this."

"Today, Emma ruined his shirt, and he got so angry. He grabbed her and started hitting her. I went to stop him, but he grabbed my neck with his hands, like he was going to strangle me. No, he's not our father anymore, he's a monster. Maybe Mom's death had something to do with him…"

Jack's heart began to race. He quickly flipped through the diary until he came to the last page. It was written hastily, in just a few words: "Help! Help us."

Jack's heart sank, and an uneasy premonition filled his chest. The diary revealed violence and a deep sense of instability within the family, pointing to an even more terrifying truth. The word "monster" used to describe her father's behavior couldn't be ignored, and the simple, yet chilling "Help! Help us" sent a shiver down Jack's spine. He realized that things were likely far more complicated than he had originally thought.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the diary and turned to the officer. "Continue searching David's room. We might find more crucial evidence." Without hesitation, Jack had formed a preliminary theory in his mind, but he knew that proof was still needed to confirm it.