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The rain beat against the windows of the police station in the small town of Montclair. The darkness of the night was barely dispelled by the few streetlights that illuminated the deserted streets. Inside, Inspector Leon Marchand, a man in his fifties with graying hair, sipped a lukewarm coffee, his eyes fixed on a thick file in front of him. This file had become an obsession. Six months had passed since the case began, and he was still no closer to solving it.

The file bore a name in red letters: *Lea Morel*. A twenty-four-year-old woman, who had disappeared one winter evening, without leaving a trace. The search had been fruitless, until the body was found, hidden in a nearby forest, half buried under a pile of dead leaves. What had initially seemed like a simple missing persons case had quickly turned into a murder investigation, but every lead Leon followed led to a dead end.

Suspicion had fallen on one man in particular: Thomas Dubois, Lea’s fiancé. A friendly man, always ready to help, and whom everyone in town seemed to adore. Yet there was something about him that had always bothered Leon. Maybe it was his smile, too perfect, or the way he spoke of Lea with an odd distance, as if she was never really there, even when they were together.

That night, Leon decided it was time to talk to Thomas again, to dig deeper. He grabbed his coat and stepped out into the damp night, leaving the lights of the police station behind him. Thomas’s house was a short walk away, a charming red brick mansion, with flowers on the windowsills. Everything seemed perfect, but Leon knew that appearances could be deceiving.

Thomas opened the door before Leon could even knock, as if he had been expecting him. He wore a crisp shirt and a friendly smile.

“Inspector Marchand, what a surprise to see you at this hour,” Thomas said, stepping aside to let Leon in.

“Good evening, Thomas. I have a few more questions, if you don’t mind,” Leon replied, as he entered the cozy living room.

Thomas nodded, inviting him to sit down. The living room was a model of cleanliness and order, the shelves filled with neatly arranged books, the furniture perfectly aligned. Everything here exuded tranquility, but Leon knew that the devil was in the details.

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“I know we’ve talked about that night before, but there are some things that don’t add up,” Leon began, his gaze searching Thomas’s face.

“I understand, Inspector. This story has been a nightmare for all of us.” Ask all the questions you want, Thomas replied, without losing his composure.

Leon looked at him for a long time, searching for the flaw in that smooth facade.

“You said that Lea had left alone that night, after an argument. Do you remember the details of that argument?” Leon asked.

“Yes, I remember it very well,” Thomas replied, crossing his arms. “She was upset because I was working too much. She said that I wasn’t spending enough time with her. She left, slamming the door, and that was the last time I saw her.”

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Leon insisted.

Thomas shook his head, his eyes misting slightly.

“I was angry. I thought she needed time to calm down. I should have done more, I know that now.”

Leon remained silent, analyzing every word, every gesture. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Then a thought crossed his mind.

“Did Lea leave something behind? A note, a clue as to where she was going?”

Thomas seemed to think for a moment, before answering:

“No, nothing at all. Just her usual stuff.”

“Not even her phone?” Leon asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, she had it with her,” Thomas answered quickly.

Leon nodded, but his mind was racing. There was an inconsistency. Lea’s phone had been found in the forest, a few meters from her body. How could it have been with her, then discovered so far from home without Thomas mentioning it?

Leon decided to change the subject, hoping to surprise Thomas.

“You had a trip planned, right? To Paris, for your engagement?”

Thomas nodded, a nostalgic smile on his lips.

“Yes, it was our dream. We wanted to visit the Eiffel Tower, go shopping on the Champs-Élysées…”

“Why didn’t you leave that night, as planned? Léa told me she couldn’t wait.”

Thomas’ smile faded slightly.

“We canceled at the last minute. With all that stress, it wasn’t the right time.” 

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Leon felt the tension rise. He knew he was touching a nerve.

“Is that really why you canceled? Or was it because you knew something bad was going to happen?” Leon asked, his gaze locked with Thomas.

The silence fell, heavy and oppressive. Thomas stood there frozen, his face becoming impenetrable. Leon understood at that moment that he was right. He was about to speak when Thomas stood up abruptly.

“It’s getting late, Inspector. I think you should leave now,” he said sharply, his eyes hard as steel.

Leon stood up slowly, feeling the electric tension in the air. He knew he had to be careful. But he was also convinced that he had just pierced the mask of innocence.

“You’re right, I’m going to leave.” But know that this case is far from over, Thomas. Very far from over, he said calmly before heading for the door.

Outside, the rain continued to fall, and Leon walked through the dark streets, his mind buzzing with thoughts. He knew he was finally onto something. That perfect smile, that impeccable facade, all of it hid a terrifying secret. Thomas Dubois was not the man he claimed to be. But the question remained: how could one prove the truth, when the culprit so skillfully wore the mask of innocence?

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The end.