Victor Zhou got up and went to look.
I did too.
On the counter sat Jessica's wind chime.
Jessica's wind chime was very distinctive—it had been the one thing that survived her fall, hanging from the railing on her floor, shaped like a tiny house, with a red ribbon and a small bell underneath that looked like a sailboat.
She called it her "little house on the sea."
She'd always been a romantic.
When she was little, her parents went to Sanya and brought it back for her.
She'd been so proud of that wind chime that she'd shown it to everyone in class.
Now it was sitting on the kitchen counter with a Post-it note beneath it.
The note read: "I'm home."
Susan had been in the apartment while we were gone.
We searched the whole apartment. She wasn't anywhere.
But on the bedside table in the master bedroom lay a pair of earrings—small, silver, in the shape of a crescent moon.
The same earrings Auntie Harris had described Susan wearing on the day of Jessica's death, ten years ago.
Susan had been here.
The earrings, the note, the wind chime—this wasn't a home invasion.
It was a message.
The next message wouldn't be so gentle.
---
"Call her," I said.
Jessica looked at me, then at Victor Zhou. He nodded.
Jessica pulled out her phone and dialed.
After a few rings, a woman's gentle voice answered.
"Jessica, honey? What's wrong?"
Jessica sucked in a breath, but her voice was remarkably steady.
"Mom. Where are you?"
"I'm at the night market. I had a craving for snacks. Did I wake you?"
"No. I... I was just wondering when you'd be back."
"Oh, I'll be home soon. Don't wait up—go to sleep."
Click.
I took the phone from Jessica's trembling hand.
"That was her," I whispered.
Victor Zhou looked at me, his expression calm.
"I know."
"You know? How long have you known?"
"Almost from the beginning."
His steady mask cracked. He wiped his face with one hand.
"But she's still Jessica's mother."
The evening wind from the open window blew over his face, drying his tears.
"The night she broke it off with me—the night she told me everything—I was in that same room, thinking about what to do.
"All I could think about was protecting Jessica.
"I didn't care about myself. I didn't care about her.
"The only thing that mattered was Jessica."
Jessica listened to all of this, her face blank.
Then she asked, "You knew about this?"
Victor Zhou didn't answer.
Jessica walked over to him slowly and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I know you tried, Dad. And thank you."
Victor Zhou burst into tears.
---
At 10 PM, Victor Zhou lay down on the couch in the living room but didn't sleep.
At 11 PM, Jessica went back to her room. I heard her crying through the door—soft, then hard, then soft again.
At 11:30, Victor Zhou's breathing grew heavy. He was lying on his back, one arm hanging off the couch, his teeth clenched, body rigid.
At midnight, his nosebleeds started, dark red clots choking his airway. I had to roll him onto his side.
At 12:30 AM, he'd lost control of his right arm. He could only move his left arm—and that barely. I sat on the edge of the couch and watched him.
I tried to help him to the bathroom, but he shook his head.
At 1 AM, a knock came at the door.
Susan had returned.