She Locked Me In Basements And Called It Love Called It Training Chapter 07

She Locked Me In Basements And Called It Love Called It Training Chapter 07

“Based on the estimated time of death, physical characteristics, and the remains of the clothing, we are officially identifying the deceased as your missing daughter,” the medical examiner stated, his tone grim as he addressed Dad. “Given the extensive trauma, we’ll need a DNA test to confirm identity, but I advise the family to prepare themselves.”

“No… it’s a lie…” Mom whispered, sinking into the snow.

She stared intensely at the tiny walkie-talkie gripped in her hand, completely unable to cast her eyes toward the body lying just a few feet away.

“This is just a sick joke, right?” she babbled incoherently. “If she was really in danger, she would have called me… she must have thrown a tantrum and planted this walkie-talkie on someone else’s body just to make me panic. Right?”

But no one offered her an answer. The only sounds left in the mountain valley were the biting wind and the quiet weeping of her family.

A moment later, the distant wail of sirens pierced the air. Several police cruisers and the amusement park’s managing directors pulled up to the scene.

“We received an emergency report regarding severe child abuse and a fatal accident,” the lead officer announced. “The park has pulled all security footage from the mountain sectors. We need everyone to step over to review the data.”

The footage was projected onto a mobile monitor inside a temporary tent. The screen was compact, but the resolution was sharp.

Every single person in the room watched the scene unfold.

On the screen, I was standing at the edge of the bungee deck, casting one glance into the drop before my entire body began to shake violently. I was holding onto the hem of Mom’s coat, weeping and begging her to stop.

But the video showed Mom standing completely rigid, entirely unmoved by my tears.

The next second, she extended both hands and forcefully threw me off the ledge.

A collective gasp echoed through the tent. Dad clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white, keeping his jaw locked tight.

The monitor immediately transitioned to the next camera feed.

From a lower angle, the footage captured my body suspended in mid-air, tossing helplessly in the brutal winds. As the weather deteriorated, I didn’t shed a single tear; I simply hung there as the safety line slowly began to rip, my body repeatedly smashing against the frozen rock face.

Finally, the line severed completely, and I was thrown into the air like a bird with broken wings.

The thirty-minute loop felt like an eternity.

When the video cut to black, nobody spoke. They were completely paralyzed by what they had just witnessed.

The medical examiner stepped toward the screen, pointing to a timestamp near the end. “Actually, she had a window of survival.”

“In the final seconds before the fatal impact, she managed to use her remaining strength to dial the walkie-talkie. She was actively pleading for help, but the recipient terminated the call.”

“Immediately after the line was cut, her head sustained a catastrophic impact against the cliffside, resulting in instantaneous fatal trauma. The severed line then allowed her body to be swept down by the avalanche winds, depositing her at the base of the mountain.”