The rain was pouring down so hard it seemed as if it would extinguish all the neon lights in the city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Arthur pushed open the heavy doors of the police station, his expensive cashmere coat was already soaked through, clinging tightly to his hunched back. He removed his gold-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers, his eyes revealing a weariness as if his soul had been drained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David, the officer on duty, looked up, his ballpoint pen hovering over the report form: \u201cSir, would you like to file a report?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d Arthur\u2019s voice was hoarse, as if sandpaper had been dragged across a tabletop. \u201cI need to file a report. Someone is missing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy wife, Elena.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David expertly flipped open a thick case file, but his brow gradually furrowed. He turned page after page, then finally looked up, his eyes betraying a hint of confusion and wariness: \u201cMr. Arthur, the system shows this is the fourth time this month you\u2019ve come in to report Elena missing. On the 3rd, the 10th, the 17th, and today, the 24th.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur paused for a moment, then offered a resigned, bitter smile: \u201cI know, Officer. I know this sounds crazy. But every time she comes back, I feel like\u2026 something\u2019s not quite right with her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot quite right?\u201d David closed the case file and leaned forward. \u201cWhat exactly do you mean? Has she lost her memory? Or is she injured?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, she looks exactly the same.\u201d Arthur stared at a water stain in the corner of the desk, his voice dropping. \u201cShe remembers our wedding anniversary, she remembers that I don\u2019t eat cilantro, and she even remembers the glass of red wine we spilled on our first date. But\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut her eyes have changed.\u201d Arthur looked up, his gaze vacant. \u201cThe Elena I used to know had a sparkle in her eyes\u2014that kind of\u2026 vibrant energy that would get upset over the little things. But the Elena who\u2019s come back these past few times is too perfect. She no longer complains about me working late, and she doesn\u2019t get angry because I don\u2019t wash my socks. She\u2019s become\u2026 like a meticulously programmed computer\u2014gentle, considerate, yet cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David fell silent for a moment, the tip of his pen tapping lightly against the tabletop. \u201cMr. Arthur, is there a possibility that perhaps the old Elena was just too exhausted, and she simply wanted to change the way we interact?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, you don\u2019t understand.\u201d Arthur suddenly became agitated, bracing his hands on the tabletop. \u201cLast Tuesday, I deliberately threw my wedding ring down the drain. If it had been the old Elena, she would have flown into a rage and asked me through her tears if I wanted a divorce. But the \u2018her\u2019 who came back that day just gave it a casual glance and said, \u2018It\u2019s okay. You can\u2019t make way for the new without letting go of the old\u2014we\u2019ll just buy a better one.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur was panting, staring intently at David: \u201cIn that moment, I realized my wife was gone. That thing that came back wasn\u2019t her at all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David looked at the man before him, who was on the verge of a breakdown, and sighed. He stood up, walked over to the filing cabinet, and pulled out a manila envelope labeled \u201cArthur.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMr. Arthur, there\u2019s actually one thing my former colleagues never told you.\u201d David pushed the envelope toward Arthur. \u201cWhile investigating your previous reports, we reviewed the security footage from your home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur\u2019s hand froze mid-air: \u201cSurveillance footage?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d David opened the paper bag and pulled out a printed photo showing Arthur\u2019s living room. In the image, Arthur was sitting on the couch, talking to thin air, while the other end of the couch was completely empty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2026 what does this mean?\u201d Arthur\u2019s voice began to tremble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe found Elena\u2019s passport and ID card in a trash can near your home\u2014they date back three months.\u201d David\u2019s voice grew unnervingly calm, even tinged with a mechanical coldness. \u201cAccording to the forensic report, Elena passed away three months ago. The cause of death was an overdose resulting from long-term depression.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur\u2019s pupils contracted violently, and his mind went blank. \u201cThat\u2019s impossible\u2026 Then what I see every day\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThose were your hallucinations, Mr. Arthur. Or rather, because you couldn\u2019t accept reality, your brain constructed a \u2018perfect Elena\u2019 for you.\u201d David pointed to the registration form in Arthur\u2019s hand. \u201cEvery time you came in to report her \u2018missing,\u2019 it was actually your subconscious resisting this hallucination. Deep down, you knew she was dead, so you kept calling the police, trying to bring back the \u2018real, temperamental\u2019 her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur trembled as he took the photo. In it, he was smiling gently at the empty sofa, as if someone were really sitting there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut\u2026\u201d Arthur muttered, tears finally spilling from his eyes. \u201cBut this morning, she definitely made me breakfast. The eggs were runny, and the coffee had double the sugar\u2026 That was the way she used to hate it the most, but it was my favorite. \u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David froze. He quickly flipped through the case file again, his face suddenly turning pale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d Arthur keenly noticed the change in the officer\u2019s expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David didn\u2019t answer; he just stared intently at the surveillance footage playing on the screen. In the video, in that empty kitchen, the frying pan was indeed moving on its own, and the coffee maker was indeed running by itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur slowly stood up and smoothed out his soaked coat. He looked at the terrified David, a strangely gentle smile curving his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOfficer, I think I was wrong. \u201d Arthur said softly, his tone carrying a spine-chilling sense of relief. \u201cPerhaps it wasn\u2019t her who went missing. Perhaps\u2026 it\u2019s me who\u2019s truly gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned toward the front door, and the moment he pushed it open, the rain outside stopped. Arthur glanced back, his eyes eerily clear: \u201cPlease close the case. She\u2019s still at home waiting for me to have dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
David watched Arthur\u2019s receding figure, then glanced at the spoon on the screen that was automatically stirring the coffee, and suddenly felt a chill run through him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked down at the back of his hand, where, at some point, a faint, translucent scratch had appeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It turned out that on this rainy night, there had never been just one \u201cmissing person\u201d waiting to be registered.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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