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Detroit, USA
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg5tpBlkd9h
The doorbell rang, interrupting my cooking. My brother, Jason, was on his way to my apartment. We had made plans to meet up after his basketball game with his colleagues. Jason was the kind of person everyone liked-charismatic, kind, and always the life of the party. He was running late, but so was I. I had been lazy about preparing food for us, and now I was scrambling to get things done. Glancing at the oven where a batch of muffins was baking, I quickly wiped my hands on a towel and headed toward the door.
"Jason, you're finally here," I muttered under my breath, assuming it was him. But when I opened the door, my heart sank. Standing before me were two police officers-a tall brunette man with piercing brown eyes and his female partner, both in full uniform. Their grave expressions sent a chill down my spine, and an unsettling feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong.
"Miss Kasi Williams?" the male officer inquired, his voice steady but somber.
"Yes, that's me. What can I help you with?" I replied, my voice trembling slightly.
"We're with the police," his female partner said, raising her badge for me to see. I nodded, though my mind was already racing with questions.
"Did you know a gentleman named Jason Williams?" the male officer asked.
My heart froze. I had just graduated with my teaching degree in English. I knew tenses. Why had he used the past tense? My hands instinctively folded against my chest, and I stared at them sharply, my breath catching in my throat.
"Yes, I'm Jason's sister. I do know him. What's the problem?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The female officer stepped forward, her expression softening but still heavy with sorrow. "We're sorry to inform you that the gentleman is no more."
"What do you mean?" My voice cracked. "He was playing basketball with his friends. I talked to him 30 minutes ago..." My brain shut down, disbelief washing over me like a tidal wave. I felt my legs give way, and the world around me blurred.
"Ma'am!" a male voice called out in alarm as my body crumpled to the floor.
The steady beeping of hospital machines pulled me back to consciousness. I squinted against the bright lights, my head throbbing. A nurse stood nearby, adjusting the IV drip attached to my arm.
"Sir, she's awake," the nurse said, turning toward the door.
"Thank you for your hard work," a familiar voice replied. Memories rushed back in a flood, and I wished with all my heart that they were just a nightmare.
"Jason..." I whispered hoarsely, trying to sit up.
"Please, rest," the voice said gently. It wasn't Jason. It was the male police officer from earlier. "Now that you're awake, we'll send you the forms to come and identify the body later. I'm Officer Ken by the way," he introduced himself, preparing to leave.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice trembling. "How is it possible for him to be gone?"
Ken paused, his footsteps halting at the door. "It was an accident. The police were chasing a criminal, and unfortunately, the car your brother was in matched the description of the suspect's vehicle. It was a case of mistaken identity."
"What? How..." My voice trailed off, my mind unable to process the words. My heart felt like it had been ripped out, leaving a gaping wound. I was drowning in a sea of helplessness and grief.
"The police have already issued a report. It was an unfortunate accident. These things are rare, but they do happen in our line of work," Ken explained, his tone apologetic.
"Enough," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "I want to be alone." Ken nodded silently and left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, the tears came-uncontrollable and relentless. Memories of Jason flooded my mind: his protective nature as the older brother, his dreams of proposing to his girlfriend, his unwavering support when I needed it most. He was my only family left.
Ignoring the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me, I stood up. A nurse rushed over, urging me to rest, but I brushed her off. I cleared my medical expenses at the reception and left the hospital, determined to see Jason one last time. How could I rest when he was gone?
At the Detroit Police Station, I was led to the mortuary. The cold, sterile room felt like a nightmare come to life. Jason's body lay on a stretcher, covered by a white sheet. The female officer who had accompanied me pulled back the sheet, revealing his face. My heart shattered all over again. A single bullet mark was etched into his forehead, a stark reminder that nothing could have saved him.
Tears streamed down my face as I reached out to hold his cold hand. "Jason..." I whispered, my voice breaking. The officer placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, but her touch felt distant, almost irrelevant.
"We'll need you to sign these forms to confirm his identity," she said softly. "Also, the chief of the police department has a package for you."
I signed the forms mechanically, my hands shaking. The officer led me to the chief's office, where a tall, muscular bald man in a suit greeted me.
"Kasia Williams?" he asked, his voice deep and calm. I nodded, too numb to speak. "Please, have a seat. I'm Chief Hunter. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, water?"
"Which officer shot my brother?" I demanded, cutting straight to the point. "What's his punishment?"
Hunter sighed, his expression grim. "The officer involved has been placed on administrative leave and fined for negligence. The city has offered you $45000 in damages for your loss."
"That's it?" I exploded, standing up in disbelief. "He's just on leave? He's walking free, eating, drinking, while my brother is dead? This isn't justice!"
"Kasi, please," Hunter said, his tone pleading. "It was an accident. We've investigated thoroughly, and the evidence supports that. Here." He handed me a check, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and resignation.
I stared at the check in my hands, my vision blurring with tears. My only family was gone, and they thought money could make it right? I looked up at the sky outside the station, my heart burning with anger and grief. They would regret this. I would make sure of it.
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9qIgsbyPmI
