At three o'clock in the morning, the smell of disinfectant penetrated Qin Ye's nostrils like the sighs of the city's insomniacs.
He stood shirtless in the empty locker room of the forensic center, letting the cold water wash over the back of his neck.
The outline of the figure in the mirror is blurred, and the muscle lines are so dense with moisture that they are unreal.
The autopsy report on the drowning case that had just been signed was still on the desk in the office, and the conclusion was that it was an accident.
The deceased was a recently graduated college student. He had cramps while swimming and had water in his lungs, which were typical signs of drowning.
Everything is logical, without any suspense, just like a solved math problem. The standard answer is written there, clear, cold, and boring.
He turned off the faucet, and the water dropped down the ravine on his back.
The moment he reached for the towel, the cell phone hanging on the cabinet door vibrated sharply, like a short alarm.
