Chapter 47 Chapter 47
"I was going to report it," Wendy replied. "But Grandma said this note alone wasn't evidence and that reporting it wouldn't lead anywhere. She suggested that we ask Dad's supervisor for help with the investigation. However, before we could, Dad's supervisor came to our house, demanding his notebook. He said the contents were classified and needed to be confiscated for processing.”
“Why didn't you give it to him?” Grace asked.
“Because Grandma said that if we gave it to them, we wouldn't have any other clues or evidence left. Besides, Grandma felt something was off. We'd all looked through that notebook before; the entries weren't important. They were just notes about doubts or discoveries Dad had encountered during cases. It really wasn't something his boss would come collect personally. Dad kept many notebooks like that at home. He never handed them in to the office."
A hint of mischief and satisfaction flashed across the girl's face as she continued, "So Grandma tested the waters, mentioning that Dad had spoken of investigating a major case before his death—that the accident might not have been so simple. She pointed out that Dad was always a careful driver who would never cut anyone off. But the supervisor who came to our house didn’t seem to care at all. He told Grandma she was overthinking things and should relax. So, Grandma hid the notebook and lied, saying she’d burned it as part of Dad’s cremation offerings."
Grace felt somewhat surprised. This elderly woman she'd never met was clearly quite smart. After a moment, she asked Wendy, "Why do you trust me?"
Why would Mrs. Meyer, who couldn't trust her son's supervisor and kept this matter secret, trust her? Just because of the note she left behind? Could that alone justify such profound trust from them?
Wendy smiled. "I showed Grandma yesterday's photo. She said she could trust you. Your body language reveals your true feelings. You despise the man beside you, yet you must endure his company.”
Grace froze for a moment before offering a self-deprecating chuckle. "If I get the chance, I'd really like to visit your grandmother. Also, whatever you do, don't send that photo to Benjamin. I don't want all my hard work to go to waste.”
“No problem. He didn't have my contact info anyway." Wendy nodded in agreement, then fixed her gaze on Grace and asked, "Ms. Hill, you can tell me why you wrote that note to my father, right? What exactly is going on between you and Benjamin?"
Grace pondered how to explain the situation to this wise elder standing behind this young girl. She didn't know if Officer Meyer's death was her fault. Had Benjamin killed Officer Meyer because she'd gone to ask him to verify Benjamin's identity? Or was it revenge for Meyer arresting Benjamin four years ago?
The difference between the two scenarios was enormous. If it was the former, then she could be said to have brought disaster upon Officer Meyer. While this grandmother and granddaughter might hate Benjamin, they might also resent her. If it was the latter, however, they would become her most reliable and steadfast allies.
After deep consideration, Grace chose to tell the truth. Looking at Wendy honestly, she said, "Four years ago, your father worked on a case involving a victim who encountered three desperate criminals while driving at night. I won't go into the details, but ultimately, she killed the weakest one, ran over another, and the most vicious and cunning one escaped. Your father solved that case. Eleven days later, he apprehended the third robber—a man named Alex. He was sentenced to death and executed three years ago.”
Wendy stared at Grace, her mouth opening.
Grace continued calmly, "Yes. That victim was me.”
Sympathy flashed across Wendy's face, but confusion dominated. She pressed, "What does this case have to do with Benjamin?"
“Three months ago, a man who looked just like Alex approached me about handling the withdrawal paperwork for one of my students. That man was Benjamin. I was utterly shocked, so I sought help from your father. I asked him to verify whether Alex had truly been executed and if Benjamin was a real person.”
Wendy stared at Grace in disbelief. "Benjamin and Alex are the same person?"
Grace didn't pause at her question, but continued her train of thought. "A few days later, your father replied, confirming Benjamin's existence and Alex's execution. After that, Benjamin kidnapped me, filmed that video, and used it to blackmail me. It wasn't until I escaped and went to report it to the police that I learned of your father's death.”
“Did you report it? How did the police handle it? Why didn't they arrest Benjamin?" Wendy asked.
"I didn't report it," Grace said with a bitter smile. "Because I realized he'd prepared everything and erased all evidence. In the surveillance footage I could access, another 'me' had returned home normally that night—I hadn't been abducted at all. To avoid being treated like a lunatic, I had to withdraw the report."
Wendy frowned deeply, seemingly unable to comprehend what Grace was saying. After a long moment, she murmured, "Grandma also said we shouldn't report it yet. The bad guys who killed Dad are very powerful. If we report it without solid evidence, we'll just alert them and give them time to prepare."
With such a shrewd elder around, Grace felt a flicker of relief. She continued, "Wendy, go back and tell your grandmother everything I've told you, word for word. If she thinks I can be your ally, go find me at the German department at H University. We'll figure out what to do next. Remember, don't call me—my phone is being tapped by Benjamin."
Lifting her bowl to glance at her watch, Grace calculated how much longer until the forum's opening ceremony would end. "Now," she instructed Wendy, "leave immediately. Don't try to approach Benjamin yet—he's dangerous. I admire your courage, but recklessness isn't bravery."
Wendy said nothing more and left in silence.
After Wendy left, Grace wasted no time. She dashed to the bathroom, stripped naked, and turned on the cold shower. Not satisfied, she switched her hair dryer to the highest cold setting and aimed it directly at her wet scalp. As soon as her hair dried slightly, she stepped back under the cold water, then returned to blast her hair with cold air, repeating this cycle over and over. An hour later, she finally developed a fever.
It was nearly six o'clock—almost time for dinner. She dried herself thoroughly, got dressed, and went out. When her colleague at the front desk saw her return, she asked with concern, "Are you feeling better? You look terrible."
"I'm fine." Grace forced a smile and pulled out her phone. She deleted several call logs with Adrian, leaving only the call Benjamin had made to her last night. Taking a deep breath, she tapped Benjamin's entry.