Chapter 7

"At least three times in the days before Rebecca called the police, I've heard two sets of footsteps coming from her unit in the late hours of the night. The lighter one is hers, but there was also a deliberate heaviness to them, like she was hiding something.

"The other set was incredibly light, almost inaudible. However, that person has an unusual gait, as their left foot lands a little heavier than their right. I think that it's a man, and he may have a leg injury."

I had never told anyone else about these details, as I knew the police would simply assume that it was the absurd delusion of a blind man.

However, Teresa was listening to me very intently.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. That man seems to be trying to look for something. I would hear the sound of furniture being moved around gently and the soft rustling of clothing as he digs through the closets.

"The day Rebecca called the police, she was in an exceptionally excited mood, as her heartbeat was at least 20% faster than usual. That's not the sort of fearful response a victim would feel, but more like… the excitement at the success of a plan."

Once I finished speaking, I quietly waited for her response.

I wasn't sure if she would believe me. After all, these were simply my observations from what I had "heard". There was no solid proof to my claims.

The office fell into a silence so profound that I could even hear Teresa's steady breathing.

A long while later, she finally spoke up.

"I got it."

I couldn't discern anything from the tone of her voice.

"Mr. Luson, here's what'll happen next. You'll likely have to stay in this detention center for a while. During this time, don't get into any conflicts with the rest of the inmates, and make sure to protect yourself well. I'll try to get to the bottom of this as quickly as I can."

With that, she turned and walked away, proven by the clicking of her heels growing fainter.

The door opened, then shut.

Captain Jenkins approached me and sneered mockingly, "Oh? Has your savior left you? I can tell you right now that you should just give up on all hope. There are different leagues even among the lawyers, so what sort of trouble can a defense attorney from the legal aid center possibly stir up? Anyway, your time's up! Take him away, boys!"

I was once again escorted out of the room.

Nonetheless, this time, my world wasn't completely dark.

Teresa Kinsley.

The name splashed into the placid waters of my heart like a pebble, sending ripples across it.

Although I didn't know if she would be able to help me, at least she had been willing to believe that a blind man like me could hear things that others couldn't. She was the first to do that, and that was enough.

…

My stay in the detention center was a lot harder than I had expected.

I was placed in a cell with seven other people. Since my reputation as a pervert had preceded me, I instantly became the target of bullying.

They would deliberately overturn my food, pour cold water over me when I slept, and even hide my white cane away.

I didn't fight back, nor did I report their actions to the officers. I simply silently endured it all, for I knew that, in here, the weak fighting back would only invite even harsher retribution onto themselves.

Thus, I used my acute sense of hearing to avoid the most dangerous attacks. Besides that, I kept quiet most of the time to try to minimize my existence and go unnoticed.

Like a stone tossed into a lake, I sank to the bottom and waited for any news from Teresa.

On the fifth day, she returned.

Through the thick glass separating us in the visitation room, I "saw" her.

She seemed rather tired, but her gaze was as sharp as ever.

"Mr. Luson, I've discovered some interesting information." She didn't bother beating around the bush. "The apartment unit across from you is actually rented to another person, not Rebecca Zangler."