Chapter 2

When Suzanne's attempt to extort me failed, she dropped all pretense. Within a single day, I had become the most hated person in the apartment complex.

She played dirty. Not only did she spend 24 hours bombarding the residents' group chat with accusations, but she also printed hundreds of copies of that photo and plastered them across the entrances and inside the elevators.

At the top of them was a warning in huge, bold black letters. "Beware! A Pervert Lives in Building 8, Unit 402! He Stalks and Molests Women!"

I went downstairs to take out the trash. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I ran into Emily Ludd from across the hall.

When she saw me, she quickly covered her nose and mouth and hurried off, keeping as close to the wall as possible. Once she was far enough away, she shouted to her daughter, "Stay away from Unit 402! An old pervert is living there! He even goes after women in their seventies! You won't be safe either!"

When I reached the trash cans, Sonny Kingston, the cleaner who had always been on good terms with Dad, tried to avoid me. He swept the ground while shaking his head and sighing, not even looking my way.

The residents' group chat was completely out of control. Then, Suzanne sent a video.

In the video, she was lying in a hospital bed with gauze wrapped around her forehead.

"Everyone, I don't want to live anymore," she sobbed. "Every time I close my eyes, all I see is that old pervert's filthy hands. The doctor says I'm suffering from severe psychological trauma and depression. My daughter rushed back home overnight. She told me we have to sue him! We're going to put him behind bars!"

The group chat exploded again, sending one message after another.

"I support Suzanne! She should be standing up for herself! A filthy old pervert like him needs to be punished!"

"Like father, like daughter. If Joanne refuses to pay, she must be just as rotten as he is!"

"Kick their family out of the complex!"

I stared impassively at the vicious messages on my screen. I simply recorded Suzanne's videos and took pictures of her flyers. I even saved backup copies.

Every single insult would be solid evidence when the time came to put her behind bars. My phone kept vibrating. The caller was James Calhoun, Dad's older brother. We hadn't been in touch for over a year. There was no need to guess why he was calling.

The moment I answered the call, Uncle James' voice came blasting through the phone.

"Joanne, what the hell are you up to? I've already seen that video that's already spread back in our hometown! Josiah is over seventy, but he's still groping people? You two have dragged our family's name through the mud!"

I moved the phone slightly away from my ear before saying calmly, "Uncle James, Dad passed away a year ago. Didn't you know that?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, but his voice turned even more vicious. "Don't try to pull that excuse on me! Last year, you said he had gone to the city for treatment. His ashes were never even brought home!

"Who knows if he really died? A dead man can't possibly grope someone! He must have done that before he died. Now they're coming after you!"

Uncle James' logic seemed so impeccable. It didn't matter if Dad was dead or alive. This was still a disgrace to the Calhoun family.

He said, "I'm warning you. Hand over that 500,000 dollars to settle this mess! Give them what they want! Then, the rest of the money goes into my account.

"Consider it compensation for the damage to the Calhoun family's reputation! Otherwise, I'll bring everyone in the village to your complex, put up banners, and smash your door in!"

I actually laughed. These were my so-called relatives. He hadn't asked or suspected what had really happened. All he cared about was that 500,000 dollars.

"Uncle James." I said calmly, "If you want money, get it from my dad in the afterlife. And if you dare come here, I'll lock you up with them."

With that, I hung up and blocked his number. The room fell silent once again.

I walked over to the table and picked up a cloth, carefully wiping the urn that held Dad's ashes.

Then, I opened the drawer and took out his death certificate and cremation certificate, both bearing official seals. I neatly placed them in a black waterproof document pouch, along with the official record of Dad's death.