Chapter 145
Max didn’t even ask why I didn’t answer the door last night. Nor did he push me away now that we were this close.
What was he after? According to Claude, who would want someone like me?
Maybe it was because I gave him a piece of candy when we were kids.
That would be just like his obsessive nature.
“Next time there’s a case with charred bodies, can you take me along? It’s just so sad, all these victims are pregnant women who were just starting to show,” I said, changing the subject.
“Now.” His car was already parked outside the apartment building. As we stepped out, he opened the door for me and asked, “Wanna go p>
My lips curved into a smile as I got into the car with him.
Changing his aloof nature would probably take a blazing passion.
But when we got to the detective squad, I found out there was a new forensic pathologist, Tracey, who had just returned from studying abroad.
I sized up Tracey. She was different from Kate, petite and even shorter than me by half a head.
Her skin was tanned, but her gaze was sharp. I didn’t remember much about her from when we were kids.
Except, I remember someone who loved to hit me. I wasn’t sure if it was her.
After she left, no one hit me again.
But how did she pull the wool over Richard’s eyes to make him so hopelessly devoted to her?
And yesterday, Max had stayed at the detective squad to work with Tracey.
No wonder he didn’t insist when I capriciously refused his dinner invitation; he already had plans with someone else.
When Tracey, who was chatting and laughing with Ronald Collins, saw me come in with Max, her expression changed for a moment but quickly returned to a knowledgeable and graceful smile. “This must be Dr. Hilton’s student, Ms. Floyd, that he couldn’t stop praising yesterday, right p>
Max had been praising me yesterday?
I looked at him, and he blushed slightly before nodding.
Tracey walked over and extended her hand, but I didn’t shake it.
She tilted her head with a smile, raising an eyebrow at me, “Ms. Floyd, social anxiety p>
“I think a forensic pathologist’s hands are kind of dirty p>
I was insinuating that despite everything being her own doing, she still played the role of a
justice-serving forensic pathologist, making her hands dirtier than anyone’s. en
“I She suddenly faltered but then laughed it off. “Dr. Hilton, your student is so interesting. If she knew you’re also in forensic pathology and have handled countless bodies, would she think you’re dirty too p>
QUMS
Max’s expression turned cold, and with a sharp glance at her, she immediately fell silent.
Instead, he handed me a toolkit, but as I took it, my fingers brushed against his intentionally, making him pull back.
“My teacher’s hands aren’t dirty.
Everyone at the hospital calls him
the ‘Grim Reaper’; if he says you won’t die, then you won’t die
My words made Tracey’s face twitch slightly.
QUMS
“Quite the sharp tongue for a first meeting. I wouldn’t dare to mentor you,” Tracey said with a cutting smile.
“I’ll mentor her myself.” Max said, standing taller than anyone else.
“Dr. Hilton, can you help me with a file first?” Ronald Collins, sensing the awkward atmosphere, quickly diverted Max’s attention. Right after Max left, Tracey spun around, her tone edgy. “Do you really know who Dr. Hilton is p>
Someone confirmed to me that Max was indeed Maximilian.
“I don’t know. And I don’t need to. He’s just my teacher p>
I mimicked Max’s indifferent tone in my reply, only to be met with her scoff before she stepped into the autopsy room ahead of me.
As I entered, she suddenly lunged at me with a scalpel, aiming straight for my eye.