As my daughter suffocated on reeds, I turned to my wife, a forensic expert, to uncover the truth. However, she cremated our daughter's body without telling me, insisting it's better to focus on the future than to linger in the past. Her actions seem almost carefree, but deep down, I know that's not the case.  On the third night after our daughter's death, I come across my wife's phone. There's an unsent message draft. [I've already given up my daughter for you. Why won't you look back at me?]