I am a crime scene image restorer, and I make a living by repairing burned photos and broken surveillance cameras.
The day my sister jumped off the building, the police ruled her a suicide. I recovered a deleted 8-second video from her broken phone.
At the last second, a man stood in the reflection of the window glass.
Three days later, the man sat across from me in the reception room of the police station and handed me a letter of attorney, saying that he was the lawyer my sister had hired before she died.
His name is Gu Chenzhou, he specializes in criminal cases and has never lost a case in five years.
But I asked someone to check - Gu Chenzhou died in the Beijiao Tunnel seventeen years ago, and even the death certificate was stored in the archives.
His first sentence was to persuade me to stop: "Stop investigating. If you continue to investigate, you will find that your sister is not a victim."
I didn't believe it, so I dug deeper and found out that all the evidence pointed to myself:
My car was parked downstairs at the scene on the night of the crime. The skin tissue in my sister's nails belonged to me. Her last voice message before her death was only five words: "Don't believe Yi Yi."
I would be disconnected for a few hours every month. In the past, I always thought it was due to work pressure.
Until I dug out my mother's old photo album that had been locked away for more than ten years. In the photo were two little girls who looked exactly like me.
I just realized that my memory had been altered for seventeen years.
I thought I was chasing a murderer.
After putting together the last broken old photo, I discovered:
The murderer is myself
