After that, I graduated without further incident.
I never made it to London to study abroad, but I wasn't ostracized anymore, either.
I drifted—found a few jobs, moved apartments a few times.
Nobody around me ever mentioned the old case again.
Even the girl who'd been assaulted—her name was slowly forgotten.
And somehow, that brought me a measure of peace.
The crowd, in the end, washes away all kinds of memory.
Nothing's insurmountable, right?
I asked the girl on another continent that, silently.
28
Seven years later, shortly after my father was released from prison, he passed away from illness.
Fortunately, his case was posthumously cleared.
He died in his second year of freedom. He'd been imprisoned years ago simply because he'd refused to collude with a private hospital, and they'd set him up.
I suppose it was a peaceful passing, in its way.
The university held a grand funeral for him in a suburban auditorium. Many of his former students and colleagues from psychology came.
I stood before the casket, with twenty-seven-year-old Mina beside me in the same black outfit, though without a mourning band.
The mourners shook my hand one by one. Mina stayed by my side until the crowd thinned.
She wrapped her arms around me, gently patting my back, while family and friends gathered around to discuss arrangements.
But behind me, I heard a familiar voice.
"Sable?"
I turned—Detective Shaw.
He looked surprised, glancing between me and Mina with curiosity. More puzzled, I asked, "Detective Shaw, what brings you here?"
Detective Shaw's eyes shifted to the girl beside us. He sighed, "I brought her. A luminary at their school passed away—the alumni came to pay their respects."
I said "Oh" and bowed slightly to the girl who was studying me. "My father would have been pleased."
As I straightened up, I saw Detective Shaw frown, as if something had just occurred to him.
The crowd was still dispersing.
A woman with years etched on her face came over and took my hand, saying gently, "It's all in the past now."
Detective Shaw's expression shifted when he saw her—his eyes went distant.
I sighed inwardly, knowing he'd recognized her.
She was the doctor who'd written Cade's psychiatric report—my father's most accomplished student, Dr. Yvonne.
I held her hand gratefully, but my eyes were on Detective Shaw behind her.
"Thank you, Yvonne."
"If you hadn't written that psychiatric evaluation back then, Cade's case wouldn't have been solved so quickly."
Dr. Yvonne shook her head and departed.
Detective Shaw's pupils dilated slowly, as if he'd seen something terrifying.
In the summer breeze, on the lawn where people flowed past.
Me, Mina, and my father's family and friends.
We stood as one group, opposite a solitary Detective Shaw, locked in an eerie silence.
Then I remembered the summer three years ago.
That summer.
I had never wanted to study abroad.
29
Three years ago. Summer.
All that occupied my mind was "Studying abroad is so pointless."
But what was even more pointless was Mina deciding she wanted to go.
She was my best friend—no contest.
Even in summers hot enough to steam the leaves off trees, I'd cling to her, linking arms, monopolizing her time.
She was wonderful—the liveliest girl I'd ever known.
I even thought she might be turning me. Whenever I stared at her for more than three seconds, I couldn't resist planting a kiss on her cheek, then bracing for her outraged shriek.
"Sable! Why do you keep doing that!"
I'd laugh like a maniac, yelling, "Because I'm the worst, that's why!"
That summer, those summers.
Sable, around Mina, lived like an overbearing wild thing.
Even the boys who harbored secret crushes on Mina hated my guts.
Until I heard Mina was going abroad.
That was the first time Mina and I ever had a real fight.
I even declared I'd steal her study-abroad spot.
Everyone knew about Sable and Mina's falling-out, about my challenge.
The truth was, it was just a tantrum.
And it didn't last long, either.
Over summer break, neither of us went home.
I said I was studying for exams, but really I couldn't bear to miss Mina's last days in the country.
Until one afternoon, Mina bought a traditional dress and asked me to photograph her.
She said, "I wanted us to do a best-friend photo shoot. But can you dress as a boy?"
I was still trying to look annoyed.
But I'd already lost—I had no defense against Mina.
"Why?" I grumbled, reluctantly taking the clothes.
"When I go abroad, I'll show people the photos and say this is my husband."
Mina grabbed my hand and pressed it against her chest, swaying it back and forth.
"That way, all those creeps will stop bothering me."
I couldn't say no. I let her run out to buy me a hair pin.
But she was gone a long time.
Eventually, I went after her.
Down that alley.
The same alley where Mina was assaulted.
I failed to protect her in the end.
30
I didn't witness the assault itself.
When I found her, she'd pulled her clothes together and was curled up on the ground.
As I draped my jacket over her, I saw my own hands shaking.
I ground my teeth until they nearly cracked before I could form the words. "Let's call the police."
"No! Don't..."
Mina grabbed me, pleading.
I looked at her in confusion. She kept her eyes away, unable to speak.
But finally, she broke down.
"It was Cade..."
"He resigned. He has psychiatric problems."
"He said if I don't do what he wants, he'll kill my family."
Mina collapsed into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Don't be afraid... don't be afraid."
I held her gently, not sleeping all night.
That was the day I decided on my revenge against Cade.
31
In truth, what happened after wasn't so different from what I told the police.
I pretended to investigate, drawing Cade's attention.
Then I became his second plaything.
Mina and I, shut in our dorm, had no choice but to let him have his way, satisfying his perverse need for control.
Later, when Mina disappeared, Cade lost it. He came to find me and ordered me to produce her.
Until we arrived at that crumbling apartment building.
Until the moment we broke down the door.
Mina was bound to a chair, head hanging.
Cade strode toward her, triumphant.
Just as he was about to crouch down, Mina's hands behind her back swung out with a meat cleaver.
That cleaver nearly severed Cade's knee.
Cade howled in agony.
The next instant, Mina—mustering every ounce of strength—slapped him so hard he blacked out.
The world went quiet.
Mina's chest was heaving violently.
And I locked the door.
32
I'll never forget that afternoon.
The rented room blasted 80s funk at full volume.
Mina and I, drenched in sweat, dragged Cade's unconscious body from upstairs to downstairs, arranging the scene.
The music blared, blood everywhere, the air thick with the smell.
Just as we were finishing, Cade finally came to.
He looked around in bewilderment at all the blood.
Finally, he looked at me.
Mina and I stood side by side before him.
I imagine we must have looked quite the pair—filthy and smiling.
Cade had fully regained consciousness.
He clutched his wound, tried to stand, and crumpled back to the floor.
"Sable, Mina... what is this?"
Cade was finally panicking.
"How long has it been... I'm bleeding out! Get me to a hospital!"
"You two wouldn't seriously kill someone, would you?!"
"It was Linden who did it, right? Where is he? Tell him to come out!!"
I looked at Cade's blustering and couldn't help but sigh.
"We wouldn't dare, Professor Cade."
"Linden wouldn't dare, either."
"Or rather—there was never anyone named Linden."
Cade froze.
"What did you say?"
I smiled and smoothed my disheveled hair.
"Linden was someone I invented to kill you."
33
That night, all I could think about was an unsolvable problem.
How do you stop a killer who hides behind mental illness?
Not just me and Mina. Even the police couldn't bring him to justice.
But there was no reason to swallow it.
I rubbed Mina's back and thought for a long time.
Finally, I took Mina's phone and, for the first time, replied to the man who'd been endlessly threatening her.
From that day on, the person messaging Cade was me.
First, I created a persona: Linden, someone who'd been in an online relationship with Mina even before Cade arrived.
Someone stronger than Cade. Someone who could protect "Mina."
I made sure Cade knew about this person and saw him as a threat.
Then I deliberately threw myself into Cade's clutches, letting him believe he controlled both of us, that he could toy with two girls as he pleased.
I gave him every freedom and satisfied every perverse desire.
But every conversation in our dorm, I made about "Linden."
I'd say, "That Linden—what do you think he'll do to you?"
I'd say, "Honestly, Linden seems like the marrying type. A bit macho, but..."
And Mina would always chime in.
"Marriage... I've actually thought about it."
Every word of it, through chat logs and the bathroom camera, was broadcast straight to Cade.
Making him believe that Linden was our last lifeline.
In truth, every night was just the two of us, propping each other up.
I'd say: Mina, let him win.
Let him win as many times, as many days as he wants.
We only need to win once.
Until Linden grew into a bigger and bigger threat in Cade's mind.
He fought even harder to destroy Mina, to ruin the love between Mina and Linden.
Finally, when I knew Cade's psychiatric evaluation was scheduled—
I arranged for Mina to disappear and waited for Cade to come after me.
I knew he was already convinced I'd handed Mina over to Linden.
That was the trap I set for him.
34
In the little room, Cade listened in silence, then let out a strained laugh.
"You made up a person who doesn't exist, just to have him kill me?"
"You think the police are idiots? How would they not find Linden's identity?"
Cade clutched the sofa, hauling himself up, spitting the words through clenched teeth.
I clapped slowly, in genuine respect for his reasoning.
"You've thought it through. So there had to be a final step."
"Let someone who doesn't exist, kill you."
"Then let you, become someone who doesn't exist..."
"I know you looked down on me. On my dad, the convict."
"But did you know? You thought mental illness was your armor."
"It was my only weapon too, Cade."
"This city has plenty of psychologists who were my father's students."
"I used your name to find your therapist."
"The day after you raped Mina, I visited my father in prison. I asked him some questions about psychology."
"About how to guide a patient with nervous breakdown and paranoia to erupt in hatred and jealousy toward a specific person."
"A hypnosis report like that can be grounds for an initial diagnosis of many conditions."
"Today is the day your evaluation report comes out. Am I right?"
"I'll tell you in advance: Dissociative Identity Disorder."
"Thoughtful of me, wasn't it?"
"I used your name to find your therapist. Nobody cared more about your condition than I did."
"I even filled in the personality you split into."
I patted his face with my black gloves, smiling with satisfaction.
The more I spoke, the more terror filled Cade's eyes.
Finally, I leaned down and whispered in his ear.
"You are Linden, Professor Cade."
35
As Cade made his last, desperate struggle—
I applied force.
The knife entered Cade's chest.
Edge left, spine right—reverse grip, blade angled down-right, force heavy then shallow.
The kind of wound a suicide would leave.
Cade's gaze went instantly vacant.
The music kept playing.
That evening, the sunset set the clouds ablaze. Mina and I destroyed the various wounds on his body until the corpse looked especially gruesome.
Like a madman who'd mutilated himself.
When everything was set, we rehearsed our final lines.
Mina trembled uncontrollably. I looked at the old building standing against the wasteland and murmured reassurance.
Mina, there was no other way.
This city is a jungle too—a jungle of steel.
The strong devour.
Learn to play weak.
Find a protector.
Even a fake one. Even one that doesn't exist.
It's all about survival.
So let me tell you another legend.
"In this world, the jackal never truly existed. It was just a wolf that learned to lie."
"We're going to win."
The moment Mina's fear subsided, that summer was over.
What also ended was the nightmare from hell.
In that nightmare, Cade had used his mental illness to block every path to survival for Mina.
So I used dissociative identity to give him the perfect death by suicide.
We were all trapped beasts, fighting in the depths of the human heart.
In the end, Mina and I walked out of that apartment building, leaning on each other.
36
On the lawn, Detective Shaw lit a cigarette, gazing at the river in the distance.
I think he'd figured it out.
Because he wore a self-mocking smile.
"What have you been doing lately?"
"Became a teacher. Teaching acting at a university."
"Oh? Used your connections? I don't think I've ever seen you in anything."
Detective Shaw shook his head and chuckled, staring at me as he said slowly, "Don't lead your students astray, Sable."
Almost like a warning.
"Don't say that. You saw my performance."
I smiled brightly, turning to look at the now-middle-aged Detective Shaw.
"That summer, two cameras, thirteen days."
"Nobody called cut."
"That performance lasted 319 hours."
"And the award was a human life. Detective Shaw."
The End.