41
The moment I stepped through the door, the stench of blood hit me.
I thought, it's over.
My hands trembling, I pushed open the bedroom door.
Hazel, hanging in a pool of blood.
She'd hanged herself.
Below her feet lay two bodies.
42
I completely panicked. I pulled her down with all my strength and performed CPR over and over.
Until Hazel coughed.
I sobbed with relief, cursing her as I cried.
I said, how could you be so stupid! How could you be so stupid!
In that state, my mind had completely shut down. I'd lost all capacity for thought.
As Hazel slowly came to and saw me, she finally began to cry.
"Teacher Sable."
She said, "I had no other choice."
43
Hazel told me that after she chose to endure, the only thing that followed was Dalton's relentless escalation.
The very first time, Dalton lured Hazel back to his house under the pretense of paying her.
That day, Dalton violated Hazel again.
He pinned her against the pigpen railing, stripping away every shred of his humanity.
Afterward, Dalton tossed Hazel a single fifty-yuan bill.
He said, Forty thousand, paid little by little.
Hazel was already past despair. She gritted her teeth and said she'd report him this time.
"What about your little sister?"
44
Dalton had thrown those words at her casually.
The days that followed could only be described as a nightmare.
Dalton used Fawn as leverage, coercing Hazel again and again.
The pigpen.
The father and son.
Both had been Hazel's living hell.
The only thing keeping Hazel going was Dalton's empty promise.
"Just for this summer. You go off to your university. I won't tell a soul."
But Dalton broke his word.
45
The day the university admission letter arrived, all the students were at school.
Dalton found Hazel.
He ordered her not to go to university.
Hazel nearly lost her mind. She grabbed Dalton's arm, screaming and hitting him.
Then Dalton knocked her unconscious.
When Hazel came to, she overheard the Zhao father and son scheming.
"Dad, why don't you take this one."
"And the little sister... she looks pretty good too."
46
That conversation shattered Hazel's last line of defense.
For three days, Hazel didn't sleep.
She watched Fawn walk to school and back, following her every step.
But she knew she couldn't hold on much longer.
47
"Teacher Sable, so I'm not going to hold on anymore."
In the blood-soaked room, Hazel wore a dazed smile.
"Just let me go. Please let me go."
When Hazel said that, I finally came to my senses.
I thought of her smile when she tutored the students. Of her calm, clean gaze.
I thought of Fawn cradling her flower tea, and how I'd promised that in the big city, I would protect them.
As dusk fell, I bit my lip.
I said, "Go. I won't stop you."
48
Hazel froze.
I kept going: "Find a horse cart. Get to the county. Don't let anyone see you. If they can't find you, you run—as fast and far as you can."
Hazel was still staring blankly as I pulled her to her feet without another word.
"Change into clean clothes. Wear mine first. Remember—go to a class reunion. Somewhere crowded."
"Teacher Sable, what are you doing?"
"You don't have to be in the big city for me to protect you."
"But I'm not your student."
Hazel's voice wavered with tears.
"Fawn is. I like her, and I like you too."
I dragged Dalton's body onto the bed and arranged it to look like he was asleep.
Then I leaned in close, took a photo of us together—intimate.
The photo, I uploaded to a cloud drive.
"Memorize the account and password. Download it. In two days, post it anonymously on the county forum."
Hazel had just changed into my clean clothes, staring at me with wide eyes full of confusion.
"Teacher Sable, what exactly are you doing?"
"Remember those mountain flowers you gave me? Datura."
"I remember."
I picked up the knife from the floor, gritted my teeth, and slashed it across my own face.
Blood filled my eyes. Hazel, seen through the red, looked painted in crimson.
"From now on, he gave those to me."
49
In the blood-soaked room, I laid it out for Hazel word by word.
"All you need to remember is that I killed Dalton. You don't know anything."
"And me—I'm going to become a madwoman."
Hazel panicked. "You can't! The police won't believe it!"
"They will," I said.
I reached for a packet of dried datura tea—from Hazel's pocket, from my own pocket.
I held a few petals in front of her eyes, staring into them.
"I'll fabricate an even more ridiculous truth."
50
First: that night, the police would only find a deranged woman, locked in a pigpen. At a crime scene engulfed in flames, I'd be the sole suspect.
A madwoman who killed someone. How she did it—that would be what they most wanted to know.
But in my first telling, I'd claim Hazel's suffering as my own. I wouldn't say a word about the murders—only that I was an innocent victim.
The police absolutely wouldn't believe me. They'd dig for the real truth.
Then I'd confess to killing them.
But every detail in my story would be a lie.
That would only make the police more desperate to uncover what lay beneath the deception.
By then, they'd already be satisfied that they'd confirmed what they suspected—I had killed.
In the end, I'd tell them honestly how a madwoman commits murder.
They'd never ask whether the madwoman had actually killed anyone.
Or whether she was truly mad.
51
That day, I stood and watched Hazel's retreating figure for a long time.
When night fell, I walked back inside, set the house alight, and chewed the petals, letting the pain radiate through my gut and skull.
The fire wasn't to hide the knife wounds on the Zhao father and son.
It was to obscure their real time of death.
52
"But what about you?"
In the firelight, I recalled the last words Hazel had spoken.
I'd said, "Don't worry about it."
Under the blazing night sky, I calmly remembered the answer that belonged only to me.
When I was studying for my graduate exams, I had a child.
The father was a young doctor. The day I lost the baby, he'd chosen to perform surgery instead of coming to our fever-stricken child at the hospital.
In that hospital, I prayed to every god I knew. I begged them to take my life in exchange for my child's.
No god answered.
After that, I dreamed of that baby every night.
Eventually, I left the city. I left the child's father. I fled to this little mountain village.
Hazel was special.
She had a beauty mark at the corner of her brow, just like my baby. Her eyes were just as clear.
Even the university she'd applied to was the same one I'd dreamed my child would attend.
But my child was gone.
I'd always imagined her growing up to have a life like Hazel's.
On the way to the pigpen, I thought again of the spider in the dormitory.
I recognized it—it was a red wolf spider. After the mother gives birth, her young eat her body alive.
She traded her own life for theirs.
"But what about you?"
Hazel's words echoed in my ears.
I looked at her face, murmured that it didn't matter.
But in my heart, I knew—this was my redemption.
---
At the station, the loudspeaker announced my train.
Detective Shaw finally looked away from Hazel. He stared at me and spoke slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
I gestured for Hazel and the others to wait for me in the departure hall.
After they left, I asked Detective Shaw, "Is this an interrogation too?"
Detective Shaw hesitated. "No."
"Ask away."
"Even if you hadn't done this, she might have had a chance at a self-defense verdict."
"But compared to that slim possibility, she couldn't have borne the cost of those events coming to light."
"Why?"
"Because she hasn't made it out of these mountains yet. In this place, there's still her reputation, her family, her dignity. And out there, there's a life that shouldn't be disturbed."
"Then I understand."
"You do?"
"You covered yourself in filth—just to protect one person's innocence."
"Yes."
Detective Shaw was quiet for a moment, then asked his final question.
"Was it worth it?"
"No," I said.
I answered without hesitation, passed through security, and rejoined the Zhou sisters in the departure hall.
I ruffled Fawn's confused hair, my gaze drifting toward the platform.
On the platform, Hazel walked past. Standing in a line were all the students I'd briefly taught.
They'd prepared a clumsy, heartfelt surprise.
Clean clothes, bright flowers.
"But, Detective Shaw—"
I swiped my ticket, waved, and left him with a faint smile.
"I'm a teacher."