"He's dead." Catherine Grace repeated when I made no move.
I stood in my place, frozen.
Ybbrahim Greyson's large body was sprawled on the long couch. He was wearing a plain white shirt and black pants. There was no blood stain on any part of his body. He looked as if he was only peacefully asleep.
He was a healthy man and he did not look old despite his age that's why his death was such a shock.
As I surveyed him questions raced through my thoughts,
Did he die of natural causes?
Was it heart-attack?
If not natural causes then did someone strangle him to death? If yes, then who?
Samantha? If she killed him then for what reason? How could she kill her husband?
"A-are y-you sure of it?" I asked, still unsure.
"I am very sure of it. Years of training made me identity if a man was dead or not by just looking at the body." She softly explained, her expression serious as hell.
