Chapter 5

Chapter 5

September 25, 2024.

That missing autistic child has been found.

Her body was found bloated from the seawater-a gruesome sight. Her internal organs had been hollowed out by sea fish and birds.

Her parents wailed and beat their chests, putting on a show of profound grief.

But their wailing was so loud and performative that it felt off.

Over the past six months at the police station, I’ve seen my fair share of partings and reunions, joys and sorrows.

In reality, true grief and heartache are silent; sometimes, you can’t even squeeze out a single tear.

Unfortunately, we have no evidence to prove that the father-or even the couple-deliberately placed the child in danger.

My mood is absolutely wretched.

Perhaps it’s because the victim in this case was the same age as my sister.

Perhaps it’s because she, like my sister, suffered from an incurable condition, which always brings my sister to mind.

I think of her every smile, every frown, and how she used to throw herself into my arms, sweetly calling me “Big Sister.”

I think of her helplessness and agony every time she had an asthma attack.

In my dreams, I’m desperate to know if she’s still alive.

Is she okay?

Where did she go?

The uncertainty is driving me to the brink of madness.

October 6, 2024.

After finishing my shift for the National Day holiday, I decided to go back and look for the witnesses from years ago.

The two witnesses who provided alibis for that scoundrel and my grandmother.

Lao Yu also said that if even one of them lied, there’s a chance.

So, if I can just break them, maybe I can find out the truth of what happened back then.

Maybe I can find my sister.

I went to see the scoundrel’s witness, Widow Zhang, first.

Then I went to see my grandmother’s witness, her fellow church member, Granny Zhou.

I spent the entire day working on both of them.

The results were beyond my expectations.

October 7, 2024, 9:30 AM.

I walked into a courtyard.

Inside, a silver-haired elderly woman was laying out radish strips covered in salt crystals to dry.

This woman and these salted radishes were the very reason my sister developed asthma in the first place.

I approached her step by step.

“In the autumn of 2005, I caught pneumonia. My parents took me to the municipal children’s hospital, leaving my sister in your care.

“On the day it happened, it was your turn to host the prayer meeting. You felt so honored that you were busy attending to the guests and completely forgot about my sister.

“She was hungry and came to find you twice, but both times you chased her out of the room. She was so hungry she started eating the salted radishes drying in the yard.”

Even after all these years, my heart still feels like it’s being pierced by a blade whenever I bring this up.

To keep the tears from falling, I tilted my head back slightly and looked up at the sun.

“It was evening when we returned and found her. She had been eating salted radishes all day. She couldn’t find any water, so she hadn’t had a single drop. My parents scrambled to induce vomiting and forced her to drink a massive amount of water. She was crying so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Despite the emergency measures, she was left with permanent damage. Her airway and digestive tract were corroded by the high salt content. She often couldn’t eat and struggled to breathe. That was when her asthma started.

“You ruined a perfectly healthy child. Do you feel no guilt at all? Tell me, has your Lord forgiven you?”

The old woman turned her clouded eyes toward me. “When one does wrong, as long as they repent with a sincere heart, the Lord will forgive them. That dead girl is long gone anyway. Why are you digging up these old accounts?”

“If I were you, I would never dry another salted radish again!”

I couldn’t help but scream, tears rolling down with my rage.

The old woman snorted. “Even if her illness was my fault, you’re the one who lost her, girl. What right do you have to lecture me? Don’t think you’re something special just because you’re wearing a police uniform!”

We all hope that those who hurt us or our loved ones will have a change of heart, admit their mistakes, and apologize.

But the reality is usually that they don’t.

“I found Granny Zhou, the one who testified that she was at the prayer meeting with you. I promised to help her apply for a reduced sentence, and she told me everything. She hasn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in all these years. I want to know… what about you, Grandma?”

I stared at the arrogant old woman, enunciating every single word.