Three years ago, I watched my best friend being pushed off a tall building.
I am a trace appraiser and have photographic memory. That rainy night, the angle of the murderer's push, the palm prints on the window glass, the ring mark on the ring finger of his left hand - every detail is engraved in my mind.
But the scene was cleared, the evidence chain was broken, and the case was hastily concluded as "suicide."
I resigned, concealed my identity, and sneaked into the group where the crime occurred as an assistant. The CEO, Gu Shen, was cold and distant, but he always appeared "just in time" at every step of my investigation to clear obstacles for me. On the ring finger of his left hand, he wore a plain ring.
Interpol senior Zhou Yanbai cared for me like a day for seven years. He said: "If you need anything, please feel free to contact me." But every time I got close to the truth, the clues would always break early - he knew too much, so much that it seemed like he was monitoring me all the time.
Until I received the USB drive left by my best friend before she died. In the video, she said: "You know the person who pushed me."
I thought it was Gu Shen, someone behind the scenes. I never thought that the person who kept saying he loved me was the murderer who buried the truth.
When memory becomes the only evidence, how can I make the truth echo in time?
