Chapter 4
Ruth looked through them very carefully.
She started by reviewing the evidence of bigamy. "Screenshots from the enrollment office are only for reference. They can't be used as direct evidence.
"We'll need to hire a foreign lawyer to go to the city where he registered the marriage, get the official certificate, and have it notarized.
"My team can take care of this. It should take about two weeks."
I nodded. "Okay."
She said, "Once we have the evidence, Benjamin will be charged with bigamy. It's a serious crime. Though the sentence may not be severe, you, as the innocent party, will hold an absolute advantage in the division of marital property."
She set the documents aside and picked up the property deed. "The house was bought during the marriage and may be subject to division as marital property.
"Although his parents live there, their names aren't on the deed, so they have no ownership interest in the property. If they're only guests, you can ask them to leave and change the locks legally."
Ruth's tone was calm and professional, carrying a convincing authority that made her words easy to believe.
I felt much calmer.
At last, she put on gloves and carefully picked up the yellowed compensation agreement.
Her gaze lingered on the document for what felt like ages. The office was silent except for the sound of pages turning.
After a long pause, she looked up at me. "Mrs. Collins, are you certain this is your signature on the agreement?"
I nodded. "I'm sure."
"Were you thinking clearly at the time?" she asked.
'I was heartbroken, almost falling apart,' I replied honestly.
Ruth tapped her fingers lightly on the desk. "This case is way more complicated than the bigamy charge. First, it's been seven years, so the traffic offense is likely time-barred.
"Second, the case was already closed, so to reopen it, we'll need very strong new evidence showing the original ruling was wrong.
"Third, and most importantly, we need to track down the truck driver who took the blame back then."
Ruth's words hit me like a cold shower, instantly snuffing out the fire for revenge that had started burning in my chest.
"Does that mean there's nothing we can do?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"No," Ruth said, a spark of excitement flashing in her eyes—like a hunter catching sight of a tricky target. "There's always a way out.
"Even if it's time-barred, if we can prove conspiracy, falsified evidence, or obstruction of justice, that becomes a separate criminal case.
"We can request handwriting and fingerprint tests to see if any Collins family members left marks on this document.
"We can also dig into Benjamin Collins's company accounts to trace the real source and final destination of that compensation payment. And as for the driver—"
Her smile was tinged with a chill. "No one in this world can keep a secret forever, especially one paid for. As long as he's still alive, we'll find him."
I looked at her, hope rising again. "Ms. Jones, I'm giving you full authority over this case. I have only one request."
"What is it?" Ruth asked.
"I want them ruined, disgraced, and left with nothing," I said.
Ruth met my determined gaze and nodded. "Sure."
Still, she warned me, "I charge a lot."
"I'll sell the house. That will cover it," I replied without hesitation.
I could always make more money, but right now, I needed justice for my parents and myself.
*****
I stepped out into warm sunlight and switched my phone back on.
Dozens of missed calls and texts flooded in, all from Benjamin using different numbers.
The latest text had come in five minutes ago.
Benjamin: [Lillian, I'm begging you. Please pick up the phone. Let's talk. What do you want? Money? I'll give you 150 thousand, even 300 thousand.]
Benjamin: [Don't make a scene, and leave the past alone. We can talk.]
Leave the past alone?
It seemed that he was finally afraid.
I scoffed, snapped a screenshot of the message, and sent it to Ruth. [Does this count as a threat or psychological pressure?]
Ruth replied in a flash: [It does. Save it, and don't reply.]
I put my phone away and hailed a cab home.
*****
The house was still full of traces left behind by Benjamin and his parents.
I felt disgusted.
I walked into the bedroom, grabbed the biggest suitcase I could find, and packed all of Benjamin's clothes, books, and everything of his.
Then I booked a courier and had the stuff all sent to the home of Benjamin's first love's parents.
Her name was Vivian Larson.
I saw her photo in an old wallet Benjamin kept hidden.
Since they were so madly in love, shouldn't she be the one to take care of his stuff?
I wanted them to get the message loud and clear.
Less than an hour after the courier picked up the box, my phone lit up with a call from an unknown local number.
I hit record before answering.
"Hi, is this Lillian?" came a woman's voice, carrying restrained anger while trying hard to maintain composure.
It was Vivian.
"Yeah," I replied coolly.
"What's your problem? Why did you send all his stuff to my parents' place? Are you trying to humiliate us?" she snapped.
I sneered. "Isn't that your legal husband, Mr. Collins's stuff? Since you two are married, you should be taking care of this."
I made sure to emphasize the words "legal husband" and "married".
Her breath caught sharply.
"Ms. Larson, you should know that bigamy is a crime here," I said.
Before she could respond, I continued casually, "You went to a good university. You know what happens when you break the law. I don't need to explain it to you, right?
"You'd better think carefully about your own situation before standing up for your husband.
"Do you really think hiding overseas keeps you safe? Since I can find your marriage record, I can uncover everything about you."
Then I hung up.
I could imagine how pale Vivian's face must have turned.
She must have thought I was still the naive girl from six years ago, someone who would cry, question, or lash out in hysteria.
She probably didn't expect me to stay so calm and use the law against her.
When dealing with someone like this, one cannot rely on conventional methods. The calmer one remained, the more she began to panic when treated as a criminal.