Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 70

“Mr. Cooper, from the Istra Martial Arts Academy,” Yvonne replied without missing a beat.

A simple lie like “I’ve been training non-stop” might work on the Spencers, but Bennett required a more careful approach.

Mr. Cooper was a former comrade of Bruce’s who had retired due to injury and now taught at the academy. He had been Yvonne’s first martial arts instructor.

After the original Yvonne was rescued from her adoptive parents, her health was poor. Yvonne had sent her to Mr. Cooper for a while to build her strength and learn self-defense.

But the girl lacked perseverance and quit after a short time.

Still, the connection existed, giving the police a verifiable lead if they chose to investigate.

“At your age, it’s impossible to be that skilled,” Bennett stated, his dark eyes seeming to see right through her.

Yvonne’s hands, hanging at her sides, clenched into fists. He was right, but she couldn’t admit it.

“Officer, have you ever heard the word ‘prodigy’?” she asked, batting her eyelashes with an air of pure innocence.

Bennett stared at her for a long moment before his gaze shifted away.

“We can’t confirm Mark’s identity yet. As the only witness, you need to be careful. If you’re in any danger, call the police immediately.”

His tone was detached, all business. With that, he stood up and left.

It was nearly dawn when Yvonne walked out of the police station.

A white Audi A6 was parked at the curb. The door opened, and Sandra got out.

Sandra let out a cold, disappointed laugh. “Such a naive little girl, still believing in that sentimental nonsense.”

“You don’t?” Yvonne asked, her eyes bright.

Sandra stared at the road ahead. After a long pause, she said, “I used to.”

Years ago, her husband had discovered irregularities in the Gonzalez Group’s accounts. He had gathered evidence and reported it to the police. But before an official investigation was even launched, she received news of his death.

Then she met Yvonne, who had told her that justice might be delayed, but it would never be denied.

But then Yvonne had died, too, leaving Sandra alone. She didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

“You’ve been up all night. Get some rest. You have to be on set this morning,” Sandra said, her voice flat as she pushed her own memories away.