Chapter 4

I went back to my room and exported the file from my recorder under [Evidence_007_InsurancePreAssessment]

I backed up every single file in three separate places.

One copy stayed on the iPad, and another went onto a flash drive, which I hid under my mattress.

I needed to hand the last copy off to someone I could trust. The problem was, I had no one.

My classmates only saw me as a rich kid and never really talked to me. The last time I had bruises on my arm, my teacher asked a single question, and my mom smoothed it over with a phone call. My relatives? Every single one of them worked for Daniel's company. Nobody would dare cross him.

I stayed awake thinking about it all night.

The next morning, I saw someone sitting near the gated entrance of our neighborhood.

It was a homeless man. He sat on the bench across the street every single day, cradling a filthy stray cat. The security guards had chased him off dozens of times, but he always came back.

I walked over to him.

"Hi, mister. What's your name?"

He lifted his head, staring at me with dull, clouded eyes. "Craig."

"Craig, do you have a cell phone?"

"No."

"Can you read?"

"I used to be a teacher."

I paused. A homeless man who used to be a teacher?

"Craig, can I come talk to you every day?"

He didn't say anything, but he gave a subtle, quiet nod.

From that day on, I stopped by to see Craig every afternoon on my way back from school. I’d bring him a bottle of water and a sandwich, saved from skipping parts of my own meals.

It turned out Craig really had been a teacher. After his wife passed away from an illness, his life completely spiraled until he ended up on the streets.

Gradually, we got to know each other.

Then, one afternoon, I reached into my backpack and pulled out the flash drive.

"Craig, if I die one day, can you give this to the police for me?"

Craig's hands began to tremble. "What... what are you talking about?"

"My parents bought a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on me. When I die, they get all that money. That's why they stopped treating me and are cutting my medicine.

"Everything on this drive is evidence. If the police prove they deliberately let me die, the insurance company won't pay out a single cent.

"They're waiting for me to die so they can get five million dollars. But instead of a payday, they're going to get a prison cell."

Tears welled up in Craig's eyes and began streaming down his face. "I can't let you die. You're only twelve years old!"

I squatted down beside him and gently patted his back.

Though I was the one whose life was ticking away, here I was, comforting a total stranger who was crying for me.