Fiona Bennett knew that digging deeper into what else Susan Wright had done, no matter how heinous, would not win her Adrian Wright's help. Maybe Susan Wright truly deserved her fate, but what about Gabriel Adams? What did Gabriel Adams do wrong—was it just for helping her?

  “Uncle Alan, all these years, you’ve taken care of Aunt alone. It must have been especially hard. But, if Susan Wright were still alive—please forgive me for saying this—the situation at home wouldn’t be like this.”

  Fiona Bennett decided to go all in. Since Adrian Wright no longer felt any familial affection for Susan Wright, she had no choice but to take the risk and say things that even disgusted herself.

  “If she were still alive, she’d definitely be a very famous doctor by now. She always wanted to stand out, and she really had the ability to do so. Especially after leaving school and entering society, she would have had a brighter future than any of our classmates.”

  “You mean, if she was doing well, she’d still think about her filial duties?”

  Adrian Wright let out a mirthless laugh.

  “She wouldn’t have abandoned this family, unless she went abroad. As long as she was still living and working in Shanghai, she couldn’t cut off her roots. She was so proud and so smart—she’d never do something as stupid as denying her parents. Even if she had to pretend, she’d use every resource to keep this family together. She’d also put effort into finding new treatment options for Aunt , both domestic and international, because if Aunt woke up, it would help her reputation and career. So, if Susan Wright were still alive, maybe Aunt would have woken up long ago. But Susan Wright was murdered, and all those possibilities are gone. Don’t you want to know who destroyed all this? Shouldn’t there be a price to pay for turning you and Aunt into what you are now?”

  Adrian Wright gripped his phone tightly in his palm. Fiona Bennett’s words weren’t without reason. He knew Susan Wright; maybe she would have kept up the act, fulfilling her promise that “studying medicine was to take care of her mother.”

  “Then what about you?” Adrian Wright asked. “Why go to all this trouble to convince me? It’s not for Susan Wright, is it?”

  Fiona Bennett realized her words had finally had an effect. Now, her answer would be the key to persuading Adrian Wright to join them! Should she really say it was for revenge for Gabriel Adams? After all, Gabriel Adams had nothing to do with the Alan Wright family. Originally, Fiona Bennett had planned to tell the truth, but now she hesitated. Was there a better reason to move Adrian Wright?

  Suddenly, her phone chimed—a text message had arrived.

  Fiona Bennett apologized and took her phone out of her bag. She wasn’t really checking the message; she just wanted to buy a little more time, hoping for a flash of inspiration.

  She deliberately slowed her movements, her gaze falling on the phone screen, though her eyes were unfocused.

  Run!

  The message contained only these two characters.

  Fiona Bennett slowly put her phone back in her bag. No inspiration came, so she decided to stick to her original plan and mention Gabriel Adams.

  Only then did the meaning of the message truly register in her mind. Fiona Bennett froze, then hurriedly took out her phone again. This time, she finally saw clearly the warning text sent from an unfamiliar number.

  A chill ran through her, numbing her entire body.

  How could it be? How could Adrian Wright possibly want to harm her?

  But even William Williams had betrayed her—hadn’t she failed to see that coming? Who was the sender? Was it the same person as last time? But wasn’t the last message sent by Winnie Hayes to sow discord with William Williams? In a split second, countless thoughts raced through her mind.

  Fiona Bennett knew she didn’t have time to sort it all out. The most important thing now was to confirm whether this warning was true.

  “Uncle Alan, there’s something I didn’t bring with me today. How about I go get it? Then you’ll understand why I have to get to the bottom of this case.”

  Adrian Wright was taken aback. “You’re already here—why not just tell me now?”

  Fiona Bennett stood up. “I’d really rather go get it first.”

  “Wait. You said you already know who the murderer is. Is it really one of your classmates from the special training class? Who is it?” Adrian Wright asked solemnly.

  “I’ll tell you, Uncle Alan, next time I come.” Fiona Bennett forced herself to stay calm. The result of her test was already obvious. She couldn’t worry about manners anymore—she grabbed her bag and headed straight for the door.

  “Wait.” Adrian Wright shot to his feet and in two strides blocked Fiona Bennett’s way.

  Fiona Bennett was so scared her legs were shaking. She bent down to put on her shoes, but her arm was suddenly grabbed.

  “You can’t leave,” Adrian Wright snarled. “You have to stay here!”

  All the sadness, pain, and helplessness from earlier vanished. He had made up his mind—he had to hand Fiona Bennett over to Matthew Mitchell.

  Fiona Bennett felt as if her arm was caught in an iron clamp. She couldn’t help but scream, on the verge of collapse from fear. In desperation, she bent down and bit Adrian Wright’s arm hard. He cried out in pain and let go, but his other hand immediately grabbed Fiona Bennett’s hair. Tears streamed down Fiona Bennett’s face, but she knew she had to fight with everything she had. She kicked out at his groin, but only hit the outside of his left leg. She then kneed upward, finally landing a glancing blow. Adrian Wright grunted—after so many years without a fight, he couldn’t bring himself to use deadly force. Off guard, he was slapped twice across the face. This time, Fiona Bennett finally broke free. She didn’t bother with her shoes, rushed out in her slippers, and pulled the door open to escape.

  Fiona Bennett ran to the elevator. One of her slippers fell off, but she frantically pressed the down button. Who knew how long the elevator would take to arrive? Fiona Bennett realized waiting for the elevator was a terribly stupid idea. Heart pounding, she looked back and saw that Adrian Wright hadn’t followed. Just then, “ding”—the elevator arrived. The doors opened; it was empty. Fiona Bennett breathed a sigh of relief, dashed inside, pressed the button for the first floor, and the doors slowly closed.

  Fiona Bennett let out a long breath and wiped her tears and snot away with her sleeve.

  At the last moment before the elevator doors closed, a hand reached in, and the doors opened again.

  It wasn’t Adrian Wright, but another young man. He stepped into the elevator and smiled at Fiona Bennett—a smile that was unspeakably sinister and smug.

  Fiona Bennett kicked him in the groin—this time, she hit her mark. The man’s face twisted in pain as he collapsed to the floor, wailing. Fiona Bennett rushed out, pushed open the stairwell door, and ran down the stairs.

  She stumbled and staggered, dazed and disoriented. After so many shocks, her actions were all instinctive, her mind blank, the world spinning, the staircase before her swirling endlessly, as if it would never end.

  Suddenly, she crashed headlong into someone.

  Fiona Bennett fell to the ground. Looking up, she saw a man’s face—strange yet familiar—looking down at her. Then, a damp towel reeking of strong anesthetic was pressed over her face.

  Just before she lost consciousness, Fiona Bennett finally remembered his name.

  Matthew Mitchell.

  4

  It was as if a giant elephant was trumpeting—a deep, heavy humming rose from nowhere, vibrating through Fiona Bennett’s bones and blood, until even her soul tingled. Fiona Bennett’s consciousness began to return.

  When she opened her eyes, the sound still echoed, lingering for a long time. She remembered hearing it often as a child—the sound of a ship’s horn on the Huangpu River.

  She was lying somewhere soft. Opening her eyes, she saw a tin roof covered in large patches of rust. She guessed she was lying on a sofa. She struggled to sit up, but her whole body was still weak and limp—she couldn’t manage it.

  “It’s been years, hasn’t it, old classmate?”

  A voice came from nearby.

  At this point, everything was out in the open. The life-and-death drama that had played out for years on this shadowy stage was about to reach its end.

  Fiona Bennett felt an unusual calm. She was facing the murderer of Gabriel Adams and Susan Wright. A strange force seemed to pull her away from ordinary emotions like anger or fear. She sensed the end was near, as if everything had already been arranged and fate was about to reveal its conclusion.

  Fiona Bennett gathered her strength, first moving her legs from the sofa to the floor, then using her hands, feet, and waist together to barely manage to sit upright. Matthew Mitchell sat across from her, watching, not interfering, allowing her to keep her dignity.

  Fiona Bennett didn’t look at Matthew Mitchell, but instead surveyed her surroundings.

  At a glance, Fiona Bennett’s heart tightened. The calm she’d felt in the face of life and death was instantly shattered. She felt as if she were surrounded, watched from all sides.

  Fiona Bennett steadied herself and realized the oppressive feeling came only from lifeless statues. All around her, in this thirty or forty square meter tin-roofed room, stood dozens of statues of all shapes and sizes. There were men, women, old, young, even elephants, cows, and horses—who knew how many years they’d stood through wind and rain, not only mottled but also damaged. Yet, the marks and damage of time seemed to ignite a spark of soul in each one. Though silent and still, they radiated a certain spirit. Now, gathered in this small room, arranged at different heights, facing in all directions, it was as if they were communicating in some silent, invisible way.