chapter 12
Now I stand at the criminal’s front door, gazing at the seal affixed to it.
I still don’t understand what Ms. Wu meant by, “It wasn’t me.”
I look once again at those four blood paintings.
When the third painting was created, her relationship with the second girl should have still been fairly good.
After all, at that time Ms. Wu was still planning to help that girl escape together.
But by the time of the fourth painting, the girl was gone.
Probably dead.
Hm?
No…
Wait…
People who develop Stockholm syndrome are generally those who have lost hope, who believe they can never break free from the criminal’s control.
Yet after sending the third painting, Ms. Wu went on to create a fourth.
This means that Ms. Wu never gave up on saving herself, not even for a moment.
This behavior doesn’t fit that of someone with Stockholm syndrome.
But Ms. Wu’s reaction just now clearly implied an admission-she even tried to bribe me with money.
So why did she still say, “It wasn’t me”? Was it just a final, desperate struggle?
I’m puzzled. What exactly do those three words mean?
As I stare at the four blood paintings, a thought suddenly strikes me.
If strong‑willed Ms. Wu wouldn’t develop Stockholm syndrome, could it be that someone else did?
So the “It wasn’t me” Ms. Wu said in the end-
Perhaps she wasn’t saying, “I wasn’t the accomplice.”
But rather, “I wasn’t the one who developed Stockholm syndrome.”
…
So that’s it.
That’s how it is.
Was it the girl who developed Stockholm syndrome after all?
Was it the girl who wanted to harm Ms. Wu…
It’s entirely possible the girl developed Stockholm syndrome.
Perhaps one day she had the idea of staying here forever with Ms. Wu.
She might even have told the criminal about Ms. Wu’s plan to escape using the lightbulb.
Was this why Ms. Wu killed the girl?
…
I shiver all over, but I still want to know the truth.
I realize it’s time to let the police intervene.
I pick up my phone, about to call the police.
But suddenly, Ms. Wu’s life of overcoming adversity flashes through my mind.
She escaped from the mountains, fought back against the fate life had set for her.
She finally made it to the big city, only to be kidnapped by a pervert as soon as she left the train station, and kept captive for two and a half years.
Even after enduring such an ordeal, she still strove for a better life after being rescued.
Now she has knowledge, social status, wealth, and a far better life.
Do I really need to destroy everything she’s worked so hard to achieve, just for the sake of the truth?
Come to think of it, Ms. Wu is rather frightening-she overcame every obstacle in her path by virtually any means necessary.
First the girl, then the criminal.
Sigh…
If my deduction is right and the police truly discover the existence of a third person, what will become of Ms. Wu?
The girl is already dead. Her family may be anxiously searching for her somewhere, but what use is it even if they find her? They can only drown in grief. We don’t even know where her remains are now.
And since the criminal is also dead, her family won’t even receive compensation.
Do I really have to destroy Ms. Wu’s life for the sake of legal justice?
At this moment, I feel as if I’m walking a tightrope.
Ahead lies the law.
Behind lies sentiment.
Which path should I choose?
Just as I’m torn, hesitating over whether or not to call the police, a shrill scream suddenly rings out behind me. The sound slices through the silence like a razor. I shudder instantly, recognizing it as Ms. Wu’s voice.
I turn to see Ms. Wu appear some ten meters away, her face twisted like a demon from hell, eyes bloodshot, both hands gripping a gleaming, pointed kitchen knife. The blade glints coldly in the dim light, sending a shiver down my spine.
She rushes toward me at an incredible speed, her high heels hammering out an urgent clack‑clack on the ground.
She screams at the top of her lungs, her voice booming like thunder in the air, each word seeming to brim with endless hatred and madness.
“Don’t you dare ruin my life!!!!”
The End.