Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime-Chapter 987: Are You Scared?_1

Allen Rivera had always thought himself to be sufficiently calm; after all, since he took on his job, he should remain impartial and seek the truth, even when facing friends and relatives.

But when the moment came, Allen found it to be quite difficult.

He closed his eyes, and the scene of opening the door emerged in his mind—

Inside, Jane McCain ran toward him helplessly, like a frightened and panicked child, throwing herself into his arms and sobbing bitterly.

Then the scene flashed, and it became Jane being arrested before his eyes. She was handcuffed, staring at him with her sharp black-and-white eyes, filled with shock and incomprehension.

At that time, she must have been utterly unable to understand why the person she trusted most would lock her up in jail.

Allen could have seriously explained to her how incriminating the evidence piled up against her was. But that would have been a second injury.

Allen personally made a trip to the Matthew Family.

He wanted to find out if Zane Matthew and Kyle Matthew had any discordant friends over the years, or financial disputes, or romantic entanglements—anything at all that could lead to the emergence of a second suspect. The more likely it became to find another suspect, the greater the chances of proving Jane’s innocence.

Regrettably, Allen returned without accomplishment.

The case had been shelved for three to four years, and what exactly happened to the brothers before they disappeared remained unknown. Meanwhile, their parents had always lived in a small town and rarely inquired into their sons’ affairs.

Aria Jackson’s side turned up with nothing either.

Jane was not Zara Jameson; Jane had far too many acquaintances. She had been to countless gatherings, and there were friends of friends, and friends of those friends at those parties... Even if all police resources were deployed, it was likely impossible to interrogate all these individuals one by one.

The next afternoon, Allen took a thick stack of party photos to see Jane, asking her to try her best to identify in the photos who might tell the story of the murder of the Matthew brothers.

Arrested out of the blue and accused of murder, Jane was bound to hold a grudge against Allen.

But it concerned her innocence, so she had no choice but to cooperate with the prosecutor’s work.

After looking through several photos, Jane realized that all these photos came from her Twitter.

With the popularity of social media, taking photos at parties and uploading them to Twitter had almost become an instinct.

But her profile contained more than ten thousand tweets—texts, images, her own posts, reposts from others, various jokes, star gossip... To collect photos from every party out of these ten thousand-plus tweets would be a massive undertaking!

Jane couldn’t help but glance at Allen.

Dark shadows tinged the underside of Allen’s eyes, and they were bloodshot, clearly he had not slept all night.

"Put the photos of the parties where the story might have been heard on the right-hand side, and the ones where it’s unlikely on the left," Allen said to her, his voice slightly hoarse.

Jane lowered her head and started examining the photos seriously.

The recent ones weren’t so hard; at least Jane remembered what they did at those parties. But for the ones from a long time ago, two years, three years prior... Jane couldn’t even recognize all the faces at the parties, let alone remember who told her the story about Philly.

She looked for a long time, feeling increasingly hopeless the more she saw.

Seeing Allen sitting by her side, meticulously recording the numbers of the sorted photos, she couldn’t help but ask, "Aren’t you scared?"

Allen was taken aback.

Jane said, "When you think that the person you arrested might be innocent and could potentially face the death penalty or life imprisonment, do these thoughts weigh on your mind? Are you scared?"

Allen fell silent, unable to find words for a moment.

Jane looked at his poker face and let out a deep sigh; "Maybe if you treat me as a murderer, you’ll feel a bit better."

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel