Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning, I was woken up by repeated knocks on the door. I stumbled out of bed, still groggy, and opened it. Standing outside were two police officers. The sight of their uniforms jolted me awake. Panic surged through me as I remembered the clothes I had worn during the crime were still in the living room, not yet hidden. But then I thought—what's the point of hiding? I might as well turn myself in. In those few seconds, every change in my expression was noticed by the female officer.

I led them into the living room. As I turned to show them the way, my heart raced, my mind racing to think of a plan. My eyes scanned the room for the incriminating clothes, but when I looked around, I saw nothing. That only made me more worried—I was terrified the police would spot the clothes in some corner I had missed.

"Don't be nervous. We're not here for anything serious," the male officer said, sitting down on the sofa. "We couldn't reach you on your phone, so we came to your place to ask about what happened that night. We didn't have time to contact you in advance, so we hope you don't mind. Are you feeling up to answering a few questions now?" I looked at the male officer sitting on the sofa and nodded in agreement.

He continued, "Did you see anyone suspicious that night?"

"It was raining so hard—I couldn't see anything clearly."

"What was your relationship with the victim, Ethan Bennett? And why were you in that neighborhood at the time of the incident?"

"We were... we used to be a couple. Ethan Bennett never likes carrying an umbrella, so I went there to give him one. He's never liked carrying one, even before. Every time it rained, I would go pick him up, and we would..."

The female officer beside him clearly didn't want to hear any more of this. She cut me off, asking sharply, "Why didn't you call the police right away? Were you trying to buy time?"

"Why would I try to buy time?" I looked up, staring at the female officer's face, my voice tinged with anger. "When I saw him lying in a pool of blood, not breathing, I was so scared—my mind went completely blank..." Just thinking about it made me so sad that tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't get out the last word.

After waiting for me to calm down, the male officer asked again, "Did the victim have any enemies? Had he been in any conflicts with anyone lately?"

I shook my head, then added, after a moment's thought, "We did have a falling out a while ago. We just broke up." I looked at the two officers in panic. "You don't think I killed him, do you?"

They exchanged glances, then pulled out a phone. On the screen was a surveillance video from the night of the incident.

The video showed Ethan Bennett walking home in the neighborhood from a distance, followed by a person in black, completely covered from head to toe. The figure was about 175cm tall and very thin. Ethan Bennett turned around suddenly—as if he had heard someone call his name—and that's when he was killed.

The officer explained that Ethan Bennett's reaction when he turned around clearly showed he had heard a familiar voice and turned to look. As soon as he turned, the person in black quickly pulled a knife from their sleeve and stabbed him in the chest—swift, accurate, and ruthless. After Ethan Bennett fell to the ground, the person in black fled the scene quickly. About five or six minutes later, I appeared. None of the victim's valuables—including his laptop—were missing, so the initial judgment was that this was a revenge killing, committed by someone the victim knew.

The male officer zoomed in on the figure in the video and asked, "Do you recognize this person?"

I studied the figure carefully—completely hidden under a large black raincoat—and pretended to think. "Ethan Bennett knew a lot of people. I have no idea who this is."

In the end, they couldn't get any useful information out of me and left. After seeing them off, I frantically searched the room for the clothes. Had they grown legs and run away?

Just as I was puzzling over this, I ran to my bedroom, plugged in my phone, and turned it on. As soon as it powered up, I saw a message Tyler Hayes had sent me earlier: "I have the things."

"What do you want?" I sent back, but my message was met with silence, like a stone sinking into the sea.