Countdown 4 Hours: Confession
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I'd seen the marriage certificate in Victor Zhou's study—partly because he'd left the drawer hanging open and partly because I'd been looking for clues to his whereabouts.
It was an ordinary marriage certificate, with Victor Zhou and one Susan Chen.
On the whiteboard, the project manager's name was exactly the same: Susan Chen.
Victor Zhou's wife was the leader of the organization.
His wife—the woman who was so devoted to him—was the one hunting him.
And the woman planning to force their daughter off a building.
What kind of mother was she?
I stood there, staring at that name, feeling every emotion at once.
This was beyond "cruel."
Jessica came up behind me. "What's wrong?"
I didn't answer. I just looked at her.
She looked back. "Marcus, what—"
"Jessica, after your dad left this afternoon, was your mom home?"
She thought about it. "No, she went to the market."
"And she didn't come back until when?"
"Around six. Why?"
I pointed at the name on the whiteboard.
"That's your mother, isn't it?"
Jessica fell silent for a long time. She just gripped my hand tighter and stared at the whiteboard.
Then she started reading.
When she was done, she turned to me and said one sentence.
"I loved my mother."
She didn't say "I love." She said "I loved."
Past tense.
She'd known.
But knowing and seeing were two different things.
Now she didn't just know—she'd seen it.
And her grip on my hand was so tight her knuckles had gone white.
---
Ten minutes later, we were still standing there.
Jessica had just finished reading every word on the whiteboard.
"One question, Marcus?"
"Go ahead."
"Does my dad know?"
"About your mom?"
"About her being... the leader?"
I turned her toward me and looked into her eyes.
"Your dad has known all along."
Her gaze dropped.
"Then all his talk about protecting me..."
"Is real. Your dad's been fighting the organization for a long time. He created something that shouldn't exist, and he's been trying to fix it ever since.
"He doesn't want you involved because he wants to protect you.
"But your mother—they're using you to control your father. They know he'll always come back for you."
Jessica let go of my hand.
She looked at the whiteboard for a long time, jaw tight, eyes fierce.
"Then let's go find her."
"They have more people than us."
"I don't care."
"Jessica—"
"I don't care! She's the one who sent those men to my house! She's the one who made my dad live in fear! She's the one who..."
Her voice was shaking.
"She's the one who's going to kill my dad!"
When she said that, I knew.
If we went after Susan now, Jessica would fall right into her trap.
In ten years, I'd investigated this case to the bottom, and even so, I hadn't found a single clue.
But now, everything was different.
Every clue was pointing to the same truth.
Susan had arranged everything. The break-in. The threats. The escalating violence.
She'd set up the whole thing.
The question was—why?
What did she really want?
I took Jessica's hand again.
"Let's go back."
"Where?"
"Home. Your home."
"Are we giving up?"
"No. We're setting a trap."
---
We left the warehouse through the same ventilation duct.
The night was thick. No stars.
I felt like I'd descended into a labyrinth.
By the time we got back to the Zhou apartment, Jessica was clammy with cold sweat.
Victor Zhou was sitting in the living room, watching a rerun of an old drama. His face was pale, and he was trying very hard to look calm.
On the kitchen island, the short ribs from dinner had gone cold.
"I'm going to heat those up," Jessica said.
She started walking toward the kitchen.
I stopped her.
"Is your mom back yet?"
She shook her head.
I looked at Victor Zhou. He was sitting motionlessly, eyes on the screen, not speaking.
The room fell silent.
Then Jessica went into the kitchen.
After setting up the ribs to reheat, she walked out, pale-faced, and said, "There's something on the kitchen counter."