Chapter 2
The officer took my disability certificate and looked it over carefully, his face growing stern.
He turned to Mia. "Ma'am, making false accusations is a serious offense. Are you certain what you just said is the truth?"
Mia's lips quivered, but she was speechless. She couldn't utter a single word.
Her once accusatory face was now as pale as a sheet.
Just then, my keen ears caught a barely audible sound.
It was the quick, shallow breaths coming from the phone Mia was hiding behind her back.
The call hadn't been ended.
She was waiting for someone to tell her what to do.
I tuned out the chaos around me and focused all my attention on that faint signal.
And then, I heard it.
Just before Mia completely lost it, a voice came through the phone—full of barely contained rage, a voice burned into my soul.
"Useless! Hang up!"
It was Victor Shaw.
The man I once thought was my brother, but who personally threw me into hell.
Mia looked like she'd just been pardoned. She fumbled to hang up the phone and stammered out an apology to the officer. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I... I must've been mistaken... Maybe it was just the reflection off the window... I was just so nervous... I'm sorry!"
With that, she shoved her way through the crowd and bolted back to her room, slamming the door behind her.
And just like that, the whole farce was over.
The officer apologized and ushered the neighbors out.
The hallway fell silent again.
I put my sunglasses back on, hiding my lifeless eyes, and the icy, empty darkness behind them.
So Victor finally couldn't stay out of it.
Did he really think blinding me and taking everything I had was the end?
No. This was just the beginning.
I went back to my room and closed the door, shutting out the rest of the world.
In the darkness, my lips moved silently as I mouthed two words.
"Check."
Victor's call came in half an hour later.
As soon as he opened his mouth, I heard that familiar, insincere concern I'd grown to hate.
"Ethan, I just heard something happened at your place. You alright? What's up with that Carter woman? Need me to take care of it for you?"
His voice was smooth, laced with just enough concern to sound convincing.
Three years ago, he made those same promises by my hospital bed—said he'd take care of me forever and help me reclaim everything I'd lost.
But then he devoured my company, stole everything I'd worked for, and dumped me in this rundown apartment like I was nothing.
Handle it? So his idea of handling things was just finding another way to mess with me?
My fingers tapped lightly on the table, where a stylish metal sculpture was sitting.
It was a "housewarming gift" Victor had someone deliver yesterday.
"I'm okay, Victor," I replied, my voice weak and worn out. "It was just a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding?" Victor's tone sharpened. "How could that be a misunderstanding? That woman accused you out of nowhere. She's clearly trying to frame you! You're just too soft-hearted, you know. Listen, we can't just let this go. I'll have someone handle it."
"Don't bother," I cut him off. "Victor, I'm exhausted. I just want some peace."
There was a brief silence on the other end.
I could picture Victor right now—his brows drawn together, eyes full of scheming and annoyance.
He must be thinking, how could this blind man still be so ungrateful?
"...Alright," Victor sighed, sounding all fake disappointment and concern. "That's just how you are, always letting things slide. If you don't want to press it any further, then so be it. But honestly, the place you're living in now—too many random people, lousy security, and stuff like this keeps happening. It's really not safe. I've already picked out a high-end apartment for you, with a great environment and 24/7 security patrols. Just move in, I'll take care of all the expenses."
Here it came.
This was the real reason he called today.
He wanted me out of here.
Ever since I quietly moved into this rundown neighborhood just two blocks from his company headquarters a month ago, he'd been trying to get rid of me.
Victor was finally scared. Even a blind guy like me being this close made him nervous.
What was he afraid of? Was he afraid that she would remember that the basement of this building contained the original evidence of his crimes?
"Victor, I really appreciate it," I replied quietly, turning him down. "But I'm pretty used to living here. The neighbors...they're quite 'enthusiastic.'"
I made sure to put a little extra emphasis on the word “enthusiastic.”
Sure enough, Victor went silent for a split second, holding his breath.
His voice dropped, an edge of chill barely noticeable unless one knew him. "Ethan, I'm only doing this for your own good, you know."
"I know," I replied. "I just don't want any more trouble. Let's just drop it, Victor. I'm hanging up."
I hung up before he could get another word in.
The room was plunged into dead silence once more.
I reached out and, without hesitation, picked up the metal sculpture from the table—like I could see it right in front of me.