The corpse had several chunks missing from the left chest area below the heart, and despite the police searching the scene for days, they were unable to locate the missing pieces. Anastasia had no choice but to fill the gaps with synthetic materials and sew the area with artificial skin. It wasnt until she had finished this task that she realized it had been three days since she had last heard from Edward. He hadnt returned home, made a phone call, or sent a message; it was as if he had vanished into thin air.
Anastasia began to panic. Apart from his phone number, she had no other means of contacting him. She knew nothing of his social circles, his parents, or his friends. She recalled his job and tried to find information on the citys government website, but there was nothing there. She even checked the news from City A, but there were no reports of car accidents or anything else that might explain his absence.
Where could he have gone? She dialed his number repeatedly, but it went from No one can answer the phone to shut down. His WeChat messages also went unanswered. Unable to sit still, she decided to return to her parents home.
Atticus was in a good mood when he heard his daughter was coming for dinner and personally cooked her favorite dishes, braised fish and ginger beef. Anastasia looked at her parents smiling at the dinner table and, with a sense of determination, brought up her concern.
"Dad, I wanted to ask you about someone."
"Who?" Atticus asked nonchalantly, reaching out to pour a bowl of soup for his daughter.
"Edward Cullen. Hes the blind date mom set me up with the other day. Ive been trying to get to know him, but hes disappeared these past few days."
"Who?" Scarlett seemed to recall the name. "Oh, him. Didnt he stand you up? Are you back in contact?"
Anastasia didnt have the patience to discuss the details with Scarlett. She looked at Atticus and continued, "He told me he was going to City A for a meeting and then just... disappeared."
"What do you mean by disappeared?" Atticus wiped a drop of soup from Anastasias hand with a napkin, noting that she hadnt even flinched at the hot liquid.
"I mean, no calls, no messages, nothing. Im worried about him," Anastasia admitted, her voice wavering slightly.
Atticus glanced at her and put down his chopsticks, addressing Scarlett, "Go ahead and call Old Liu and his wife, invite them over for dinner tonight."
He put on the demeanor of a man in charge, and Scarlett, unusually compliant, nodded and went to make the call.
Seeing her fathers willingness to help, Anastasia felt a bit more at ease. Although he might not actively intervene to help Edward, at least she could find out his current situation.
The rest, she would figure out step by step.
"You really are something," Atticus said, rarely speaking so seriously to his daughter whom he had always been reluctant to reprimand. "A man youve known for just a few days, and youre this frantic. If hes really up to no good, you want your father to risk my reputation for him?"
Anastasia bit her lower lip and murmured, "Dad, its been five years since I broke up with Fitzwilliam. This man makes me feel like theres something to look forward to in my life. I dont want to lose him. If hes really as you say, then..."
Atticus waved his hand to cut her off, sighed, and got up to return to his study.
If they were just dating, she might have really given up on Edward. But now, he was her husband, the man she had promised to know, cherish, and care for at the civil affairs bureau.
Atticus suggested she return to her place after lunch, as it was not appropriate to discuss certain matters in front of the younger generation. Anastasia nodded and, after helping Scarlett wash the dishes, left her parents home.
With her fathers words in mind, she had a bit of an idea; it seemed Edwards superior had been investigated, and he was implicated.
Thinking this through, she returned to the home she shared with Edward, packed two sets of clothes for him, and booked a high-speed train ticket to City A for the afternoon.
Sure enough, as soon as she got off the train, a text message from Atticus arrived, informing her that Edward was merely under suspension and investigation, and he was fine. He would be released in a couple of days.
Anastasia felt relieved and went to the detention center to drop off the clothes for him. Although she didnt see him, at least she knew he was safe.
She found a hotel nearby and called her boss, Old He, to ask for leave. Since she hadnt taken any leave in the past few years and had accumulated a lot of vacation days, Old He didnt make it difficult for her and just told her to come back as soon as possible.
The next afternoon, she received a call from Edward. His low and hoarse voice sounded weak as he asked, "Where are you?"
Hearing his voice, Anastasia felt a lump in her throat and her eyes reddened. She quickly covered her nose and mouth, afraid he would hear her vulnerability. She managed to steady her emotions and told him her hotel room number.
"Stay there, Im coming to find you," Edward whispered before hanging up the phone.
Half an hour later, he rang the doorbell, and Anastasia hurriedly opened the door. When he entered, she threw herself into his arms, hugging his waist and inhaling his scent. Her heart finally settled.
Edwards body stiffened for a moment, then he reached out to push the little bundle in his arms, but she was holding on too tight, and he couldnt push her away.
"I havent taken a shower in four days. Dont you find the smell overwhelming?" He smiled, "Let me go take a bath first. I feel like I smell worse than a dead fish."
Hearing this, Anastasia released her grip on his waist, feeling a bit childish for her behavior just now. She was too embarrassed to meet his teasing eyes and turned on the television, sitting on the bed with her back to him.
It wasnt until the sound of water from the bathroom stopped that she realized she had been so lost in thought that she hadnt noticed when he had finished. Edward came out of the bathroom, his only attire a bath towel around his waist, his hair still damp with droplets of water falling onto her cheeks, neck, and the bedsheet below.
Each drop was like his kisses, gentle and deep, causing Anastasia to feel as if she were in a vast ocean, and the man in front of her was her only support. She could only cling to him.