Chapter 3

The door to our apartment had two yellow police warning tapes stretched across it.

Dragging my injured left leg, I ignored the tapes, ripped them off, and pushed the door open.

The air inside was thick with a stale, metallic smell.

On the floor, a large patch of dried, dark-brown blood was staring back at me.

That was where Clara died.

I grabbed a rag from the bathroom, got down on my knees, and began to scrub the floor.

"Clara loves a clean house. Can't let it stay dirty..."

I mumbled to myself, my eyes completely hollow.

From the hallway, a sharp, mocking voice drifted in.

"Oh look, the freak is back."

Our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, was standing in the corridor, raising her voice on purpose.

"Selling his wife out and having the nerve to come back. Who's going to buy this cursed apartment now? What a jinx."

"I know, right? Heard he even defended the killer. He's lucky her ghost hasn't dragged him to hell yet."

My hand paused for a second. I didn't look up.

I kept scrubbing.

I scrubbed until the floorboards turned pale and my fingers were raw and bleeding.

Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway again.

Tyler burst in with a few guys, waving some papers in the air.

"Ethan Cole! Explain this!"

He threw the papers, and they scattered across the floor in front of me.

It was a copy of a life insurance policy.

The payout: Ten million dollars.

The sole beneficiary: Ethan Cole.

Tyler’s eyes were bloodshot, looking like a wild predator ready to rip me apart.

"No wonder you defended Leo Vance! No wonder you didn't press charges!"

He lunged, grabbing my collar and shoving the paper in my face.

"Because he was your partner! You were the mastermind! You set this up for the insurance money!"

I stared at the policy, completely frozen.

When did Clara buy this?

I recalled the week before her birthday, when she had mysteriously told me she had prepared a huge surprise for me.

So this was it.

That foolish, loving woman... Was she worried that if anything happened to her, I would be left with nothing?

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, making it hard to breathe.

My silence, however, was proof of guilt in Tyler’s eyes.

"Silent? Guilty conscience?"

Tyler grabbed a baseball bat from near the door and swung it down with full force.

*THUD!*

The bat slammed into my stomach.

My stomach spasmed violently. I curled up on the floor like a shrimp, cold sweat instantly soaking my back.

I grit my teeth and didn't make a sound.

"Tell me! Did you plan this?!"

Tyler raised the bat for another swing.

"Stop hitting him!"

A man's voice came from the door.

Our neighbor, Marcus Drake, walked in, wearing an expression of righteous indignation.

"Tyler, I'll testify for you."

Marcus pointed at me as I lay on the floor, his eyes shifting nervously.

"A few days before the murder, I heard him and Leo Vance arguing in the hallway. They were talking about 'how to split the cash' and 'making sure it looks clean.'"

The crowd outside the door gasped.

"Oh my god, a witness!"

"This is it! He's guilty!"

Lying on the floor, I forced my head up to look at Marcus’s hypocritical face.

He had been obsessed with Clara, pursuing her constantly, and grew bitter after she rejected him.

Good. Very good.

All the monsters are finally in one room.

I suddenly burst out laughing.

It was a laugh that rattled my chest, tasting of copper and blood.

I struggled to my feet, grabbed a half-empty bottle of liquor from the ruined counter, and took a large swig in front of everyone.

The alcohol spilled down my chin, mixing with the blood on my lips.

"Yeah," I said, wiping my mouth, looking at Tyler with a mocking smirk.

"The money is coming. Ten million dollars. Of course I'm thrilled."

"With that kind of cash, do you think I'll have trouble finding another woman?"

Silence. Complete, suffocating silence.

In the next second, Tyler completely snapped.

He grabbed a heavy metal shovel from the corner of the room and raised it high.

"Then go to hell with your money!"

The shovel cut through the air, aimed straight at my skull.

I closed my eyes.

I didn't dodge.

*CLANG!*

A dull impact echoed, but the expected pain didn't come.

I opened my eyes. A frail figure had thrown herself over me.

Warm liquid dripped onto my face.

It was Mary Vance, Leo’s mother.

The edge of the shovel had grazed her forehead, and blood was gushing out.

"Don't hit Mr. Cole... He's a good man..." the elderly woman sobbed, shielding me with her body.

The crowd went wild.

Tyler froze, and then his rage flared even hotter.

He pointed at Mary, the veins on his forehead bulging like worms.

"Look at this! The killer’s mother is protecting this piece of trash!"

"You guys are definitely in this together! You disgusting criminals!"

The gathered neighbors were fully riled up now.

"Beat them to death!"

"No shame!"

"They threw away their humanity for cash!"

People started throwing rocks, garbage, and rotten vegetables.

Tyler pulled out his phone and started a livestream on TikTok.

"Guys, look at this! This is Ethan Cole! The monster who murdered his wife for insurance!"

The comment section exploded in real-time.

[He deserves the electric chair!]

[Dox him! Find out where his family lives!]

[Why isn't this demon dead yet?]

I had officially become public enemy number one.

Just then, sirens wailed in the distance.

Two police cruisers pulled up downstairs, and officers rushed up the stairs.

"Freeze! Everyone step back!"

They set up caution tape, barely keeping the furious crowd at bay.

But Tyler wouldn't let it go. In front of the officers, he shoved his phone camera right into my face.

"Ethan Cole, in front of the cops, in front of millions online, do you dare to admit you ordered Leo Vance to kill her?!"

"Do you dare to swear? If you lie, may you burn in hell!"

The crowd pushed forward, and I was knocked to the ground.

Someone from the crowd had brought a plastic bowl filled with cold, rotten food mixed with dirty water and ash from the memorial candle.

*SPLASH!*

The cold, filthy mush was dumped directly over my head.

Some of it even got into my mouth.

"Eat up! This is your final meal!"

"Apologize to your wife!"

I lay on the ground, humiliated to the core.

At that moment, my dignity was completely ground into the dirt.

I stuck out my tongue and tasted the bitter, ash-covered food on my lip.

Then, slowly, I stood up.

I pushed away the officer who tried to help me.

Using my sleeve, I wiped the grime and blood from my face, inch by inch.

My movements were so slow it made the room go quiet.

I lifted my eyes, looking past Tyler, past the police officers, and locked my gaze onto someone standing in the very back of the crowd.

I roared, my voice echoing through the entire building.

"Leo Vance is not the killer!"

I pointed a trembling finger at the figure in the back, pronouncing every word clearly.

"The real killer... is standing right among us!"