Chapter 2

The very next day after I got home, I started putting on my perfect daughter act.

I'd get up at six sharp every morning and whip up breakfast for the whole family.

The sandwiches were grilled to perfection, and the milk was just the right temperature.

When Zack was heading out to work, I'd straighten his tie and hand him his briefcase, just like a real daughter would.

"Dad, be careful on your way," I'd say.

At first, he was a bit awkward about it, but he soon got used to my sudden devotion.

He'd pat my head with a proud smile, looking genuinely pleased.

"Sunny, you've really grown up," he'd say.

My mom was even more enthusiastic, bragging about me to anyone who'd listen.

She would say, "Sunny came back from that school a whole new person.

"She's more mature and caring than anyone now."

The neighbors and her circle of wealthy ladies couldn't stop singing my praises.

They would say, "Lydia, you're so lucky.

"Zack really knows how to raise a daughter."

My mom would glow with pride and vanity.

This was exactly the kind of family she had always dreamed of: a caring dad, a devoted daughter, and a home where everything just seemed perfect.

I'd become her most prized bragging point.

One evening, during dinner, Zack took a call at the table.

His expression suddenly grew tense.

After hanging up, he tugged at his tie in frustration.

My mom asked cautiously, "Zack, what's wrong?"

"It's that damn case from three years ago again," Zack grumbled, his voice tense.

He said, "That guy Wayne has been shouting about his innocence for three years, and now he's somehow found a lawyer who's trying to overturn the verdict."

I remember the case he was talking about.

It was a huge scandal three years ago. A young woman was murdered, and her body was dumped. Wayne, her boss, ended up taking the fall and was sentenced to life in prison.

Zack was the lead prosecutor on that case.

My mom placed a meat on Zack's plate and said, "What's he gonna pull now? Didn't you say the evidence was airtight?"

Zack replied, "The evidence is solid, but there were some procedural hiccups, and they just won't let it go."

He looked exhausted, massaging his brow.

I kept my head down, poking at my food, and tossed out a question like it was no big deal.

I said, "Dad, I remember that case. Wasn't the victim's best friend a key witness or something?"

Zack froze for a second.

He looked up at me, his eyes suddenly sharp.

He asked, "How do you know about that?"

I shrank back a little, my voice barely above a whisper.

I murmured, "I just remember seeing it on the news before."

His expression softened.

He said, "You're just a kid. Don't get mixed up in these things. The witness, her name is Emily. She used to be a friend of mine," he said.

Hearing the name, my hand clenched tightly on my knee.

Emily was the woman Zack snuck off to a hotel with when I was sixteen.

She was the one who wrecked my whole life.

My mom's face went pale, but she quickly covered it up with a forced smile. She said, "It's all in the past. Why bring her up now?

"Let's just eat. The food's getting cold."

Dinner ended in a heavy, uncomfortable silence.

Later that night, I grabbed some fruit as an excuse and headed into Zack's study.

He was on the phone, frowning deeply, not even noticing I'd come in.

Zack snapped, "Emily, why are you freaking out?

"I told you, the evidence chain was airtight back then. There's no way he can overturn the verdict!

"Just stick to your original testimony, and nobody can touch you.

"Don't call me again. Be careful, people are watching."

After hanging up, he turned around and saw me standing there.

For a split second, panic flashed across his face.

"Sunny? When did you come in?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

I stood there with the fruit plate, looking as nervous as a startled deer.

I stammered, "D-Dad, I just brought you some fruit. I swear I didn't hear a thing."

I set the fruit plate down and turned to make a quick escape.

"Stop!" Zack barked.

I froze, my back still to him, my body shaking slightly.

He walked over and watched me closely, his gaze lingering for what felt like forever.

I kept my head down, not daring to look him in the eye.

After a long silence, he sighed, his tone finally softening.

He said, "Sunny, I have just been under a lot of pressure at work lately. I didn't mean to be harsh.

"That was just something from work. You wouldn't get it."

I whispered, "Mm."

Zack said, "I'm a prosecutor, Sunny. I stand for justice. I would never do anything against the law, you understand?"

"I understand, Dad," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, full of admiration and trust.

He finally let his guard down.

He reached out and gently patted my head.

"Good girl. Go get some sleep," he said softly.

As soon as I stepped out of the study and into my room, my face instantly turned cold.

I pulled out the voice recorder and erased everything on it.

Then I slipped it into my backpack.

The next day, I made up an excuse about cleaning and went back into the study.

While Zack was out, I stuck the tiny voice recorder in the most out-of-sight spot on his desk, using double-sided tape.

It was a perfect place to catch every word.

Zack once told me that evidence was the sharpest weapon in this game.

Now, it was my turn to dig up the proof that'd take him down.