31
Early summer. The plaza in front of the station lay baking under the sun.
I spotted them immediately—Hazel holding Fawn's hand in the crowd, a bag of local specialties at their feet.
I walked over and ruffled Fawn's hair.
She visited me often enough that I couldn't tell anymore whether she'd grown.
Hazel had started university. She was as quiet as ever, watching me with those gentle, warm eyes.
I said, "Detective Shaw, you can drop me off here."
But Detective Shaw pointed toward the station. "I'll see you onto the train."
I didn't refuse. The four of us headed inside.
Just then, Fawn tugged at my arm and said in her sweet voice, "Teacher Sable, when are you coming back?"
I smiled. "When you get into college, you'll see me again."
Fawn rolled her eyes, her face falling. "That's six more years."
She sighed dramatically, then pinched my sleeve again. "Then can I have Hazel send you flower tea every year?"
The air seemed to freeze.
Detective Shaw stopped, turned slowly, and fixed his eyes on Hazel.
Hazel only looked calmly out at the crowd in the station.
I checked my ticket and let out a quiet laugh.
"All right."
---
Fragments of Truth
32
"Those scenes you imagined were so terrifying..."
Sitting in the car, I listened to Detective Shaw's relief, and my mind drifted.
Were those really fantasies?
Or were they fragments of the truth?
33
The village children were the greatest gift I received after coming to teach there.
They were sweet and earnest, and they knew how to cherish things.
I could see it from my very first day.
Every one of them put extraordinary effort into showing kindness.
They were holding on to their hard-won volunteer teacher, desperate to make me stay.
I never thought of letting them down.
Fawn was the most endearing student in the class.
Her workbook was always immaculate. She treated every textbook with care. When she raised her hand, her posture was the most earnest in the room.
I still remember her carefully holding out a plastic bag of flower tea she'd brought for me.
She said her sister had picked it herself, to help the volunteer teachers beat the heat.
That was how I learned her sister's name—Hazel.
34
After the college entrance exams, I finally met Hazel.
Her eyes were bright and calm, as if they held an unshakable faith.
Hazel had come to help with supplementary classes at the school—it wasn't even a real position, but they were short-staffed, and Hazel was from the village, so the principal made an exception.
Those days, Hazel would always bring Fawn along, clustering around me, asking about life in the big city.
Is KFC really that good?
Are roller coasters scary?
What if you don't know how to take the subway?
In the age of smartphones, those ordinary things still felt impossibly far away for them.
I promised that once Hazel got into the provincial university, I'd take them there to explore. My treat.
Hazel smiled sweetly, and I realized for the first time that she was nervous beneath that calm exterior.
Then Hazel said something in earnest:
"By the way, Teacher Sable—the village chief's son, Dalton. Be careful around him."
That was the most serious thing Hazel ever said to me.
35
That same day, Hazel handed me a few packets of datura root, stem, and petals.
Datura—Angel's Trumpet—was a wildflower that grew everywhere in the mountains.
Growing up in the village, Hazel knew exactly how to work with it.
How to use and preserve it.
The seeds, the roots, even the petals' toxicity.
They could cause convulsions, excitement, hallucinations. In the worst cases, death.
She even showed me a razor blade hidden inside her underwear.
But all I saw was a girl doing everything she could to protect herself.
I asked her why she went to such lengths.
Under the stars, Hazel sighed, her voice drifting like smoke.
"A couple years ago, Dalton raped a girl from the county."
"They said he settled for forty thousand."
"But who knows? Nobody ever saw that girl in town again."
36
In truth, I didn't take Dalton's flirtations seriously. Not from the start.
From the day I arrived at the school, Dalton had found every excuse to get close to me.
But I knew how to handle men like that.
I never gave him the time of day. The moment he overstepped, I threatened to call the police.
I told him my phone had an automatic emergency alert app, my camera uploaded to cloud storage, and my location was always tracked. I'd taken every precaution to protect myself.
Some of it was true, some bluster. But it was enough to keep a cowardly predator at bay.
What I didn't expect—
Was that Dalton would turn his attention to Hazel.
37
That was the day the exam results came out.
I'd checked Hazel's score—it was high enough for the university she wanted.
But when Hazel arrived at school, I found her standing blankly at the corridor railing, staring into nothing.
When I patted her shoulder to check on her, I saw bruises on her face and wrists.
In the office, it was just the two of us.
Hazel cradled her teacup, hands trembling.
"It was Dalton," she said. "A class reunion in the county. He had one of his goons get me drunk."
"Then he carried me back to his house..."
"I pulled out my blade, but I couldn't bring myself to kill him. He beat me so badly."
"I was so stupid. All those poisons—what was the point?"
Her words came in broken fragments. She looked like she'd lost her soul.
I was shaking with anger. I told her she had to report this. She had to go to the police.
But Hazel grabbed my arm, her voice begging.
"But I'm about to go to university, Teacher Sable."
I was even angrier. "Going to university is a good thing!"
Then I said almost exactly what Detective Shaw had said to me.
I told her she was a victim.
I told her she had to speak up!
That the longer she stayed silent, the more she enabled that animal!
But Hazel gave me every reason to stay quiet.
"But Teacher Sable—my parents can't handle news like this."
"The whole village would find out."
"I've heard what they say about girls like me."
Ruined. Defiled. Dirty.
"My dad works away, saving up to buy me a phone. My mom has a bad heart. And my little sister is still here..."
"Teacher Sable, he said he'd give me forty thousand... Do you think he actually will?"
I looked at Hazel's tear-streaked face and felt every ounce of strength drain from my body.
I couldn't say a word. I didn't even have an answer for her.
38
As evening fell, the fields turned gold.
Fawn waved goodbye to me sweetly, holding her sister's hand as they left the school.
She didn't notice her sister's unsteady steps.
That night, alone in my room, I brewed the datura tea Hazel had given me.
A few petals. I drank it down. No rush of energy. No hallucinations.
Nothing to escape into.
Just endless nausea that kept me hunched over a plastic bag, vomiting.
I didn't know if it was the flower's poison, or Dalton's atrocities, or my own helplessness.
That night, I dreamed I was yelling at my own reflection: Why did you become a teacher? Why did you come here to teach?
You can't save anyone.
39
After that, Hazel came to school less and less.
Every time I saw her, I never knew whether to ask about what had happened.
The visible bruises faded, but her eyes grew increasingly hollow.
Then she stopped coming altogether.
Until one day, I couldn't stand the worry anymore and went to the county high school.
The teacher told me Hazel's admission letter had arrived ages ago.
But no one had come to pick it up.
That afternoon, I held the acceptance letter in my hand, a growing sense of dread.
I found a horse cart and begged the driver to take me back to the village as fast as possible.
When I arrived, school was still in session.
I found Fawn. "Where's your sister?"
Fawn just said, "She's at home! She even bought some liquor, says she's celebrating."
My dread deepened.
Celebrating?
But she hadn't even picked up her acceptance letter!
I ran all the way to Hazel's house.
The place was spotless. No one was there.
I remembered Hazel's ashen eyes, the way she always stood in the corridor, letting the hot wind wash over her, gazing in one direction.
I remembered.
It was the direction of Dalton's house.
40
When I reached Dalton's place, it was also deathly quiet.
I plunged into the courtyard.