Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 43

Wang's POV:

I was ready by 7 a.m., waiting in the dim quiet of my room, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Cheng had told me he'd pick me up by 7:30 a.m., and sure enough, he arrived on time, but something in me felt restless. Every minute stretched on longer than it should, and my stomach churned with anxiety.

When we got to the station, Cheng was quick to give instructions. "Let me do the talking," he said with that calm, authoritative tone of his. I nodded, but I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was spiraling out of my control.

As we approached the police officer, I noticed the tension in the air. Cheng straightened up and spoke first. "We're here to see Zhan," he said, his voice professional but sharp.

The officer looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable. "Zhan? You're too late," he replied, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone. "He's already left."

Cheng's brow furrowed, his voice calm but firm. "What do you mean, 'left'? Where is he?"

The officer leaned back in his chair, looking disinterested. "He left with his mother and lawyer. They took him earlier this morning."

A cold knot tightened in my stomach. What?

I could feel Cheng's frustration grow, but he kept his cool. "You let him leave with them? Without notifying us?"

The officer shrugged, barely looking up. "It's not my job to notify you. He's not in our custody anymore. If you want him, go find his mother." He gave a dismissive wave, as if the matter was beneath him.

Cheng stood there for a moment, processing the information. "This isn't over," he muttered under his breath before turning to me. I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the weight of the situation settling between us like a heavy fog.

Where the hell was Zhan?

"Can you please describe what the woman looks like?" I asked, my voice quiet but edged with something I couldn't quite place.

The officer paused for a moment before answering. "She's tall, commanding presence. Dark hair, tied back neatly, no-nonsense, dressed impeccably, in sharp suits, looks like someone used to being in control. I'd say she's in her late forties, authoritative, calculating. A woman who doesn't make mistakes."

His words hung in the air for a moment, but as he spoke, something clicked in my mind. The description was so familiar, so unmistakable.

Then it dawned on me.

My mother.

Her posture, her cold gaze, the way she moved like she had a purpose like the world was beneath her feet, everything he described was her. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. She wasn't just involved, she was pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

No wonder I felt like I was losing my grip. This wasn't just a legal battle. It was her game. And I'd been a pawn in it all along.

"Do you know where she took him?" I asked, my voice low, my anxiety rising with each passing second.

The officer clicked away on his computer, the tapping of keys filling the silence. After a few seconds, he sighed. "Jeju," he said simply.

I felt the weight of those words hit me. Jeju.

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the station, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Do you have a valid passport?" I asked Cheng as I hurried to catch up with him.