Transmigrated: I Became My Nemesis's Woman novel Chapter 191

Chapter 191: My daughter acted in self-defense

The study fell into a comfortable silence as Ivy and Xander sorted through the countless files recovered from the underground storage room.

Dust covered most of the folders, but their contents had remained remarkably well preserved.

One after another, they opened the case files Frederick Wilson had handled during his years as a police officer.

Human trafficking.

Illegal arms smuggling.

Drug syndicates.

Money laundering.

Organized crime.

Frederick had investigated some of the country’s most dangerous criminal organizations, leaving behind meticulous notes and evidence.

Xander slowly closed another file and leaned back in his chair.

"No wonder my father admired him so much."

Ivy looked up.

"He often talked about Uncle Frederick. They worked together several times to dismantle underworld networks."

A faint smile appeared on Xander’s face.

"I even wanted to become like him."

"You did?" Ivy asked, surprised.

Xander chuckled softly.

"I was only ten."

He leaned against the back of his chair as the memory resurfaced.

"On my tenth birthday, I dressed up in a toy police uniform."

Ivy couldn’t help smiling.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"I proudly announced to everyone that I was going to become a famous police officer just like Uncle Frederick."

His smile widened.

"But there was one little girl who immediately objected."

Ivy rested her chin on her hand.

"What happened?"

"She marched right up to me, pointed her finger at my face, and said, ’No! I’m going to become a police officer like my daddy. You have to choose something else.’"

Xander laughed at the memory.

"She was tiny... but incredibly fierce."

"I remember arguing with her for nearly ten minutes."

"So who won?"

"Neither of us."

He smiled warmly.

"Uncle Frederick crouched down between us and said there was no rule saying only one person could become a police officer."

"He told us we could both grow up protecting people together."

Xander shook his head, still amused.

"After thinking about it very seriously, she agreed."

"’Fine,’ she said, ’but only because Daddy said so.’"

Ivy’s heart tightened.

She couldn’t remember the moment herself.

Yet somehow...

Listening to Xander describe it made her feel as though she had been there.

Like she could almost hear her father’s laughter.

She lowered her eyes.

"Do you..."

She hesitated.

"Do you remember that little girl’s name?"

Xander frowned thoughtfully.

He searched his memory for several moments before his eyes brightened.

"June."

He nodded with certainty.

"That’s right."

"I remember Uncle Frederick calling her June."

The moment the name left his lips...

Ivy froze.

Her breathing hitched.

June.

The same name she had heard in the memories at the burned house.

The name her parents had lovingly called her.

A lump formed in her throat.

Her eyes slowly filled with tears.

Xander immediately noticed.

"Hey..."

He reached across the table and gently held her hand.

"Why do you suddenly look so sad?"

Ivy forced a weak smile.

"I was just wondering..."

Her voice trembled.

"...what they must have gone through that night."

Xander’s expression immediately darkened.

He shook his head.

"I don’t believe they’re dead."

Ivy looked at him.

"The forensic reports already proved that only Mrs. Wilson died in the fire."

"The remaining bodies were never identified as Frederick, June, or Luna."

Someone had deliberately staged the scene.

Someone wanted the entire world to believe the Wilson family had perished.

"They planned the murders," Xander said quietly.

"But something went wrong."

"They wanted everyone—including me—to believe Frederick and his children died that night."

His gaze hardened.

"They underestimated one thing."

"They failed."

Ivy squeezed his hand. Deep inside, hope quietly began to bloom.

If her father and little sister had escaped... then perhaps...

They were still alive.

***

Meanwhile, a black sedan screeched to a stop outside the police station.

Florine hurried out, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement.

Her heart pounded as she rushed inside.

The moment she spotted Nora sitting inside the holding area, her face turned pale.

"Nora!"

She instinctively rushed toward her daughter.

Before she could get any closer, a policewoman stepped in front of her.

"I’m sorry, ma’am."

"You’ll need to speak with the investigating officer first."

Florine reluctantly stopped.

Only then did she get a proper look at Nora.

Her daughter’s hair was disheveled.

Mascara streaked her cheeks.

Her expensive dress was wrinkled.

The confident smile she usually wore had disappeared entirely.

The moment Nora saw her mother, she jumped to her feet.

"Mom!"

"Please get me out of here!"

"I didn’t do anything!"

Florine’s heart ached.

Before she could respond, another furious voice echoed through the station.

"Liar!"

Florine turned.

Olivia sat across from the investigating officer, an ice pack pressed against the bruise on her cheek.

Beside her sat Polly.

Her forehead was wrapped in a clean white bandage, and a fresh dressing covered a cut on her forearm.

Polly...

What happened to them?

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