William Williams’s whereabouts were found online. It was in a news report from this year, about a young entrepreneur with a strong will despite his disability, whose game company had been acquired. The same name, the same disability, a similar age—these made Fiona Bennett feel that this was very likely the person she was looking for. She found the company’s phone number and called. Fortunately, after the acquisition, William Williams, as the founder, still held a position at the company, so the call was transferred directly to him. Fiona Bennett mentioned Shanghai Medical College, mentioned Susan Wright, and asked, “Are you that William Williams?” There was a long silence on the other end, then the answer: “Yes, I am that William Williams.” William Williams agreed to meet. Fiona Bennett was delighted—at least for now, the path could continue, even if only for a short while.

William Williams lived on the first floor. A middle-aged woman opened the door; judging by her appearance and demeanor, she was most likely a long-term housekeeper. William Williams was sitting on the sofa in the living room. The housekeeper led Fiona Bennett inside, and William Williams stood up to greet her.

Seeing Fiona Bennett’s surprised expression, William Williams smiled and sat down, saying, “It’s a prosthetic, but it’s still not particularly convenient. Sorry, my condition makes meeting at a café a bit troublesome. For meetings, it’s either at the company or at home. From what you briefly mentioned on the phone, I felt the office might not be suitable, so I invited you to my home. Sorry for the abruptness on our first meeting. Please, have a seat.”

Fiona Bennett sat down. The housekeeper served tea and then retreated to another room, leaving just the two of them in the living room, facing each other.

“It’s me who’s being presumptuous, calling you out of the blue and then showing up at your door.”

“No need to be so formal, just call me William Williams. We’re sort of alumni, after all, haha.” William Williams waved his hand. He didn’t avoid mentioning his expulsion, as if it was no longer a sore point. Maybe it was because of time, or maybe because of what he had achieved since then.

Only now did Fiona Bennett have a chance to really observe William Williams. The underfloor heating was on, and William Williams was only wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt, showing a well-defined upper body—clearly, he had kept up with fitness training. He wore loose sweatpants, and just sitting on the sofa, no one would guess he had a disability. However, his face looked older than any of Fiona Bennett’s classmates, with deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, appearing well past forty, which didn’t match his strong upper body. Who knows if it was from years of stress in business, or the blow from what happened back then, or perhaps both.

Actually, during that earlier phone call, Fiona Bennett hadn’t mentioned that this meeting was related to Susan Wright’s death. She told William Williams she was a good friend of Susan Wright, and after so many years, wanted to learn more about her. She said she knew a bit about the conflict between William Williams and Susan Wright, and had heard that Susan Wright had wronged William Williams. Her plan was, if William Williams didn’t want to meet, she would try to move him by mentioning that Susan Wright had been murdered. But unexpectedly, William Williams agreed right away. Now, sitting in front of William Williams, Fiona Bennett felt that perhaps he had not only let go of his grievances with Susan Wright, but that the feelings between them were even more complex and profound than she had imagined.

William Williams waited for Fiona Bennett to speak. Whoever spoke last held the initiative—a habit he’d developed after years in the business world.

Fiona Bennett began to introduce herself, starting from when she joined the sponsored training program. It was a bit awkward to talk about, since it was William Williams’s expulsion that had made her entry possible. She talked about her friendship with Susan Wright, how she was deeply affected by Susan Wright’s sudden death, made mistakes during her internship, and in the end didn’t become a doctor, but married Frank Bishop and had been a housewife for many years.

“In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed since graduation. Sometimes, it feels like everything has changed.” Fiona Bennett said with emotion, “Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if Susan were still alive.”

Fiona Bennett paused, waiting for William Williams’s reaction. She expected him to ask why she suddenly thought of Susan Wright and came to find him, and then she would have to bring up the matter of the murderer’s letters.

“Yes, I really wish she were still alive,” William Williams said.

Fiona Bennett was slightly surprised. Vaguely, a thought flashed through her mind—she hoped she could grasp it, as it might be very important.

“What kind of person was she? Are you willing to remember her?” Fiona Bennett asked, while pondering what she might have missed.

“Of course, of course I’m willing.” There was a hint of wistfulness in William Williams’s voice. He started from their freshman military training, describing how Susan Wright was initially so popular among classmates, how she raised a little rabbit—not as a pet, but as a lab animal for practice, which, when discovered by classmates, led to misunderstanding and isolation. He talked about how, as university studies began in earnest, the two of them grew closer, about the nights they sat together in the study room reviewing, walking back to the dorm under the bright moon and rustling pines, about the party where her flute performance stunned the whole audience…

Suddenly, Fiona Bennett realized something and blurted out, “You’re still in love with her!”

William Williams stopped, and a bitter smile slowly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“I thought I would hate her. I should hate her. For a while, I really did. But she died. When someone no longer exists in this world, some of the impressions they left on you gradually fade, while others stubbornly remain. Only then do you realize what your true feelings are.”

The fleeting thought from before was now crystal clear. It was William Williams! There was a path right in front of her that could support her moving forward—William Williams was her lifeline, she had to hold on to him! William Williams still loved Susan Wright. If he knew Susan Wright had been murdered, he would definitely be willing to investigate with her. And only if William Williams joined in and became her partner could she obtain a “get out of jail free card.” Her mental illness accusation would no longer be a fatal problem, because William Williams wasn’t mentally ill—he was a normal person. The truth he helped uncover wouldn’t be stigmatized. By then, Frank Bishop putting her in a mental hospital would be pointless. Although William Williams would only care about Susan Wright’s death and not about Gabriel Adams, the two deaths were connected—solving one would bring the other to light.

This was exactly what she desperately needed—enough to help her out of her current predicament. Only someone mentally unimpeachable could investigate and gather evidence that might shake the police’s position!

“William Williams, do you know why I suddenly wanted to learn more about Susan Wright?” Fiona Bennett placed her hands, folded, on her knees, slowed her speech, and asked solemnly.

“So, is there a special reason?”

“You know, there were rumors back then that someone in our class wanted to harm her?”

William Williams shook his head. “I wasn’t aware of that. How could there be such a thing? That can’t be, right?”

“Susan Wright told me herself—I’m sure it’s true. At the time, some terrible things happened to me as well. Let me show you something. Before she died, Susan Wright left her flute to me. It wasn’t until recently, in September, when I was sorting through things, that I found these letters inside the flute. I think she wanted me to help her find the killer, to avenge her.”

Fiona Bennett took the photocopied letters from her bag and handed them to William Williams.

Then, while William Williams was reading the letters, she began recounting everything that had happened since she saw Susan Wright get up in the middle of the night on November 25, 1997, telling the whole thrilling story from nine years ago in detail.

Halfway through the letters, William Williams stopped to listen intently to Fiona Bennett. When she finished, he lowered his head to read again, going over the dozen or so letters word by word, his expression grave.

“I really never expected that there was a murderer hiding in our sponsored training class. If I hadn’t seen these letters, I would never have believed that someone like that could be among my classmates!”

“There’s not just one—there are two murderers.”

William Williams shook his head and said, “I don’t trust people easily, even if my first impression is good. As a disabled person, I wouldn’t have made it this far if I were too trusting. Besides, everything you just said is unbelievable. But after seeing these letters, I believe you. There’s a reason for that. Wait a moment.”

William Williams stood up. Overcome with emotion, he moved too forcefully and his body wobbled. He steadied himself against the wall, regained his balance, and left the living room. A few minutes later, he returned holding a tin box.

William Williams opened the box, which was full of letters. He randomly picked one, pulled out the letter paper, and handed it to Fiona Bennett.

“Take a look.”

The letter was addressed to someone named Bella Collins. Fiona Bennett read a few lines; it was all about daily life, with no apparent connection to Susan Wright. But as she read, her eyes widened. The key wasn’t in the content, but in the handwriting. After so many days of hanging the murderer’s letters on the curtain and studying every detail, she was certain—the handwriting in this letter was exactly the same as that of perpetrator A!

Unable to contain her curiosity, she put down the letter and asked, “Who wrote this letter?”

“Daphne Morgan. That’s how she always signed as a pen pal,” William Williams said. “Actually, she was Susan Wright.”

Fiona Bennett was stunned.

“Susan Wright really was an incredibly smart and brave girl. She actually came up with such a way to save herself, and really managed to get in touch with the killer. What a pity…”