Time/Date: TC1853.01.19 (Evening)

Location: Metropolitan Police Station - Interview Room Two

The fluorescent lights had taken on a different quality as evening settled over the Fourth District. Not harsh anymore—just tired. The kind of light that made everything look slightly faded, like an old photograph left too long in the sun.

Edmund Brenner looked like he’d aged a decade in the hours since his arrival at the station.

He sat across from Detective Inspector Morrison with his shoulders bent in a way that had nothing to do with physical strain. His weathered face showed lines that seemed deeper now, carved by something heavier than time. The silver threading through his dark hair caught the overhead lights, making him look almost spectral.

His hands rested on the table. Not fidgeting with his Brenner signet ring like usual—just lying there, palms down, like he was trying to anchor himself to something solid.

Morrison had seen this before. The moment when someone’s carefully constructed world finally collapsed, and they were too exhausted to keep propping up the ruins.

"Mr. Brenner," Morrison said quietly, setting a cup of tea on the table. Not the institutional swill from the station break room—proper tea from the small stash he kept in his desk for interviews like this. The kind that said I see you as a person, not just a case file. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with us."

Edmund’s hazel eyes tracked to the tea. Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe. Or just the recognition that someone was treating him with basic human decency after a day of watching his life disintegrate.

"I’m here as a witness, correct?" His voice came out rough. Like he’d been talking for hours. Which, given the day he’d had, he probably had been. "Not... not a suspect?"

"That depends on what you tell me, Mr. Brenner." Morrison settled into his chair with the ease of someone who’d conducted thousands of these interviews. "We’ve had someone come forward with serious allegations. Meiling Wang. One of your household servants."

Edmund went very still.

"She’s filed a formal complaint regarding two deaths that occurred seventeen years ago." Morrison’s voice stayed gentle. That good cop technique he’d perfected over decades. "The tenth day of Cycle Thirty-Six, TC1835, to be precise."

The color drained from Edmund’s face.

"She’s alleging that her daughter—Trina Wang—was murdered by members of your household. And she’s also questioning the circumstances surrounding your first wife’s death." Morrison paused. "Lady Eveline Marcellus. Who died that same day, according to our records."

Edmund’s hands were shaking now. Not slightly—visibly. The tremor of someone whose defenses were finally, completely exhausted.

"That day." His voice came out barely audible. "You want to know what happened that day."

"I want to know the truth, Mr. Brenner."

Edmund was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of seventeen years of guilt.

"My daughter was born on the eighth day of Cycle Thirty-Six. Elara. My daughter with Eveline." He looked up, and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Eveline chose the name. It means ’star’ in the old tongue. She said our daughter would shine as brightly as any celestial child."

Morrison waited.

"The next day—the ninth—Selene and I... we swapped the babies. We’d agreed to it. To give Amara legitimacy. Noble status." Edmund’s voice cracked. "We told Eveline we were taking Elara to be examined by a specialist. She didn’t question it. She trusted us."

"But she found out."

"Yes." The word came out like a confession. "By evening of that same day, she knew. I don’t know how—maybe she overheard something, maybe she went looking for paperwork—but she knew we’d swapped the babies."

Morrison’s pen moved across his notepad. "And she confronted you."

"She was furious. Devastated." Edmund buried his face in his hands. "She’d just given birth a day earlier. She was still weak, still recovering. But she came to Selene’s chambers and she... she attacked us. Screaming about how we’d stolen her child, how we’d given away Elara and replaced her with Selene’s bastard."

His voice broke.

"Selene tried to calm her down, I tried to restrain her... but Eveline was beyond reason. She was clawing at Selene, trying to get to Amara’s crib. And in the struggle, she fell. Hard. Against the bedframe."

He looked up, and tears were streaming down his face now.

"Started bleeding. Post-partum hemorrhaging—she’d just given birth days earlier, her body wasn’t healed. We called for the physician immediately, tried to stop it, but..." His hands clenched on the table. "She died within the hour. It wasn’t murder, Detective. It was a terrible, tragic accident."

Morrison wrote carefully. "But someone witnessed this confrontation."

Edmund’s face went ashen. "Trina. Meiling Wang’s daughter. She was in the hallway. Heard everything. Saw everything. The accusations about the baby swap. The fight. Eveline falling. All of it."

"And what happened to Trina, Mr. Brenner?"

The question hung in the air like an executioner’s blade.

"I panicked." Edmund’s voice had gone hollow. Completely flat. "Eveline was dead. Trina had witnessed everything—the swap, the confrontation, the fall. She knew the truth. If she talked..." He stopped. Started again. "I had two choices. Let her go and risk everything being exposed, or..."

He couldn’t finish the sentence. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Morrison did it for him. "Or silence her permanently."

"My guards... I gave the order." Each word sounded like it was costing him something vital. "That same night. Kill her. But make it look like—" His voice cracked. "Make it look like she’d taken her own life. Overcome with grief at witnessing her mistress’s death."

The confession settled over the interview room like ash.

"They staged it," Edmund continued, his voice barely audible. "Positioned her body beside Eveline’s. Made it look like she’d killed herself in the same room. When Meiling Wang came looking for her daughter—she brought neighbors with her, demanded to know what happened—my guards told them..." He swallowed hard. "Told them Trina had committed suicide. That she’d been so grief-stricken at Lady Eveline’s death that she’d taken her own life."

Morrison’s pen stilled. "And Mrs. Wang believed this?"

"She fainted. From the shock." Edmund’s hands trembled. "When she woke up, Selene was there. By her bedside. Playing the concerned friend of the family. Offering condolences for the loss of her daughter."

His voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

"But there was no body to bury, was there, Mr. Brenner? Where is Trina Wang really?"

Edmund closed his eyes. "The old quarry. Eastern edge of the Fifth District. After everyone left—after Meiling Wang fainted and was taken home, after the neighbors dispersed—my guards moved the body. We couldn’t risk an actual examination. Couldn’t risk anyone looking too closely. So they weighted her down, dropped her in one of the flooded pits."

"So Mrs. Wang was told her daughter committed suicide, but never actually saw the body."

"Selene told her we’d already arranged for a cremation." Edmund’s voice was hollow. "Said it was what the family wanted. Quick. Private. To avoid scandal. Meiling was too grief-stricken to question it. And Selene..." His hands clenched. "Selene played the role perfectly. The sympathetic friend. The one who understood loss."

He looked directly at Morrison.

"For seventeen years, Meiling Wang has believed her daughter killed herself. Has blamed herself for not seeing the signs. Has lived with that guilt." His voice cracked. "And all this time, it was me. I gave the order. I had Trina murdered and then staged it as suicide. Everyone thinks Selene is the monster—and Light knows she is—but this? This was me."

Morrison set down his pen. Let the confession settle. "And Lady Eveline’s death? You maintain it was an accident?"

"It was." Edmund’s voice carried desperate conviction. "I swear it was an accident. She was weak from childbirth, just days after delivery. She fell during the struggle. The hemorrhaging was a complication from her recent labor. We didn’t push her, we didn’t strike her deliberately. She just... fell."

"But Trina’s murder was deliberate."

"Yes." The admission came out like a death sentence. "Trina was murder. Cold. Calculated. To protect our secret. To keep the baby swap hidden." His voice dropped. "And the next day, Selene left. With Elara. She was supposed to be taking her to the western provinces. Finding her a good family. I paid her a fortune to ensure Elara would be raised properly. Educated. Cared for."

He looked up, and his eyes held terrible pain.

"For nine years, I thought Elara was with Selene in exile. But when Selene returned with Mara... I thought she couldn’t handle raising a child alone, that she was too unstable, and that Elara... that she’d died." His voice cracked. "I blamed myself."

Morrison leaned forward slightly. "So you never questioned Selene why Mara didn’t look like you or Lady Eveline?"

"Selene... well, Selene being Selene, I thought she had picked up some farmer’s girl. Someone to fill the role, that she couldn’t admit that my Elara was dead, Selene well she never liked to admit to being a failure about anything." Edmund’s voice went flat with self-loathing. "That’s why I never interfered when Selene abused her. When she starved her. Because I thought Mara was just some farmer’s girl, Selene brought back to hide her incompetence. Not my daughter. Not my problem. Not my responsibility."

Morrison wrote carefully. "So when did you learn the truth?"

"Ten days ago, Selene told me everything." Edmund’s voice cracked. "After that girl—after Mara—requested DNA samples. After the blood oath ceremony. Selene finally admitted what really happened."

"Tell me what she told you."

Edmund took a shuddering breath. "The second swap. The Fifth District hospital. How she’d taken Elara there and switched her with Caelia Lin’s newborn daughter. How Serenya Long—the girl being raised as the Long family heir—is actually my Elara."

His hands clenched on the table.

"And Mara..." He couldn’t finish for a moment. "Mara is Caelia and Darian Long’s biological daughter. The true Long heir. And I let Selene torture her for eight years because I thought she was just some peasant replacement."

Morrison let that settle. Then asked the question that would tie everything together.

"Mr. Brenner, in the past ten days—since learning the truth—have you had time to think about how this all happened? About why Caelia Lin would have given birth in a Fifth District public hospital?"

Edmund’s merchant mind engaged. That analytical intelligence finally turning toward the larger pattern.

"I’ve thought of little else, Detective." His voice gained strength. The kind that came from finally seeing the shape of things. "Selene isn’t bright. She’s never been bright. She’s impulsive. Reactive. Easily manipulated if you understand her jealousy, her resentment, her desperate need for revenge against Caelia."

Morrison nodded slowly. Encouraging.

"The first swap—that was planned. We both agreed to it. To give Amara legitimacy." Edmund’s hands clenched. "But the second swap? That was opportunistic. Crude. Selene literally just walked into an understaffed hospital and switched two babies because she happened to overhear that Caelia was there."

"Happened to overhear," Morrison repeated carefully.

"Exactly." Edmund met his eyes. "What are the odds, Detective? That Selene would be walking through the Fifth District at the exact moment Caelia was giving birth? That people would be discussing a celestial family’s private medical emergency in the streets? That everything would align perfectly for her to act?"

"You think it was staged."

"I think someone who understood Selene intimately—who knew she’d be carrying a baby to the train station that day, who knew about her rivalry with Caelia, who knew exactly which buttons to push—arranged for her to be in the right place at the right time."

Morrison’s pen moved across his notepad. "And who had the resources to manipulate a celestial family matriarch’s medical care? To ensure she ended up in a Fifth District public hospital instead of a private clinic?"

"Someone brilliant." Edmund’s voice dropped. "Someone with genius-level intelligence and access to both the Lin and Long families. Someone who’s been covering tracks for seventeen years. Managing a conspiracy so sophisticated that Selene couldn’t have orchestrated it on her best day."

He leaned forward.

"The witnesses Selene thought she’d silenced? The hotel workers from the Amber Kiss incident? Selene paid them off and told them to disappear. That’s her style—throw money at problems. But systematic witness elimination? Maintaining false identities across three families for seventeen years? That requires sophistication Selene doesn’t have."

"Who, Mr. Brenner?" Morrison asked quietly. "Who has that kind of sophistication?"

"Caelia Lin," Edmund said it with terrible certainty. "My wife’s twin sister. The genius healer who knows Selene better than anyone. Who could predict her every move. Who could use her as a weapon without Selene ever knowing she was being used."

Morrison set down his pen. "But that raises a question, doesn’t it? Why would Caelia Lin orchestrate her own daughter being swapped into a life of torture?"

"That’s what I can’t figure out." Edmund’s voice held genuine confusion. "Why would she do it? Why let her biological daughter suffer for seventeen years while raising my daughter—a child with no Long or Lin blood—as her celestial heir?"

He looked at Morrison with haunted eyes.

"Unless she knew something. Something about bloodlines or prophecies or cosmic law that made it necessary. Something worth seventeen years of suffering. Something worth using her own twin sister as a pawn."

Morrison closed his notebook. "We’ll need a formal statement about both deaths. And we’ll be filing for an exhumation order for Lady Eveline Marcellus—if it was truly an accident, the medical evidence will support that. We’ll also need to recover Trina Wang’s remains from the quarry."

Edmund nodded slowly. "Whatever consequences come... at least Meiling will finally know the truth. At least she’ll know it wasn’t Selene who killed her daughter." His voice cracked. "At least Trina can finally be properly buried."

"One more thing, Mr. Brenner." Morrison leaned back slightly, his tone shifting to something more pointed. "While we’re on the topic of covering tracks... let’s talk about the gas explosion and the tampering of the DNA samples taken ten days ago."

Edmund’s face went rigid, the color draining further. His hands, already trembling, clenched into fists on the table.

Morrison continued, his voice steady but firm. "We have evidence of tampering. Surveillance footage shows a young girl entering the lab. It couldn’t have been Amara—she was with Heir Kael at the time, confirmed by multiple witnesses and security logs. And it wasn’t Selene; she was still in custody here at the station. But the footage is grainy—doesn’t clearly show the intruder’s face. Care to explain who that was, Mr. Brenner?"

Edmund’s eyes darted to Morrison’s notepad, then back up. The weight of the day—of confessions piling upon confessions—seemed to break something in him. His shoulders slumped further, and he let out a long, defeated breath.

"It was me," he said quietly, his voice hollow with resignation. "I arranged it. All of it."

Morrison raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt.

"Serenya... the girl being raised as the Long heir. She’s my daughter. My Elara." Edmund’s voice cracked with raw emotion. "I wasn’t a good father to her. I let Selene take her away, thinking she’d be safe, thinking she’d have a better life. But now... with all this coming out, with the truth about the swaps exposed... I had to protect her. It’s the only thing I can do now. The only way I can make up for failing her all these years."

"By destroying evidence?" Morrison pressed gently. "By tampering with the DNA results?"

Edmund nodded, tears welling again. "If those samples had been analyzed... if the Empire had confirmed what the Federation tests already showed... Serenya would lose everything. Her position, her future, her safety. She’s innocent in all this. She doesn’t know the truth. I couldn’t let her be dragged down with us. So yes, I did it. I hired someone—a young girl, no connections to the family—to sneak in and tamper with the DNA. Paid her well, told her it was just about destroying some records. She didn’t know the details. It was all me."

Morrison jotted down notes, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "You’re taking full responsibility, then? No one else involved?"

"Full blame," Edmund confirmed, his voice steady now, as if admitting this final crime brought some twisted relief. "Selene didn’t know. Amara didn’t know. It was my decision. My plan. To save my daughter."

Morrison set down his pen. "Alright, Mr. Brenner. We’ll need that in a formal statement as well. But understand—this adds charges of evidence tampering, conspiracy to commit arson, attempted murder, and endangerment of imperial property to your list. Combined with the murder confession... you’re looking at serious time."

Edmund just nodded, his fight gone. "Do what you must."

The interview ended there. Additional officers were called in to process the new charges. Edmund was formally read his rights again, and the paperwork was filed with efficient precision. His confession about Trina’s murder was recorded, Eveline’s accidental death documented, and the gas explosion and DNA tampering added to the docket.

Edmund was led back to a holding cell, his merchant’s bearing reduced to the shuffle of a broken man awaiting his bail hearing and trial. The cell door closed with a finality that echoed through the station corridors.

As Morrison reviewed his notes in the empty interview room, one question kept circling through his mind.

If Caelia Lin was the mastermind—if she’d orchestrated a seventeen-year conspiracy using her own twin sister as an unwitting pawn—then what was the endgame?

What truth could possibly be worth swapping your own daughter into a life of torture?