My girlfriend has been missing for two weeks now and yesterday I got the phone call from the police that I’d been dreading, asking me to come down to the morgue with them to identify her body.
I was shaking with fear when the mortician pulled back the sheet, but after looking for a minute or two I shook my head and said, “It’s not her”.
“The genetic profile is an exact match Mr Roberts, would you like a couple more minutes to look”.
“I don’t need a couple more minutes, it’s definitely not her”, I replied, angrily, “I’ve seen my girlfriend every day for the last three years, don’t you think I’d have noticed if she had a big hole in her skull?”
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