Chapter 95

A few days without seeing Zoey, she was wearing pajamas, lying on the bed facing the camera, her eyes blinking, still looking smart and mischievous.

But compared to usual, there was a noticeable fatigue in her eyes, despite her efforts to hide it with a smile. As someone who spent every day with her, I knew my apprentice very well.

"Forget about the Entertainment Club for now, why do you look so exhausted? If you can't finish your work, just pass it on to someone else. My apprentice is not someone who can be used for any job in the company. I'll go ask Howard!"

Had Howard been giving Zoey too much work lately?

This was too harsh. It was not necessary to use workload to drain Zoey's time and energy. If it didn't work out, she could be assigned some business trips to temporarily leave Silverlight City.

I turned and sent a message to Howard:

[What's going on? Why does Zoey look so exhausted? How much work did you give her?]

[What do you mean how much work? Did Zoey come to you to complain again? Your apprentice almost set my office on fire these past two days. I'm the boss, and I was so scared I didn't dare come to the office. She was talking to me about labor laws. How could I not know her workload? I gave her a vacation the day before yesterday, along with a round-trip ticket to a foreign tourist spot. I even booked the hotel. My goodness, is there any other boss like me in the world? The employee is too aggrieved, and the boss spends his own money to send the employee on a trip abroad.]

[Zoey went abroad?]

[Yes, I sent her on the plane!]

[When?]

[Last night!]

I switched back to Zoey's video interface. She was beaming, humming a song while holding an iPad and watching videos. Wasn't this background her bedroom?

Got it, Zoey flew there and then bought a ticket back.

Just to escape Howard's control.

But how did she know I went to find Ronald?

"Did you finish asking?"

Zoey leaned closer to the camera on the other side of the video, smiling ingratiatingly, probably feeling guilty.

"So you were following me yesterday."

I frowned in displeasure, not because Zoey followed me, but because Howard, Ronald, and I had agreed that Zoey should not be involved again.

"No way!" Zoey sniffed and made a funny face.

"It was the day before yesterday. I overheard your call with Mr. Martin. You said you were going home to accompany your dad. I didn't eavesdrop; Mr. Martin's voice was so loud that it was hard not to hear. So I thought, if you didn't tell me the progress, I'll find out myself."

"So, when we went to True Love Entertainment Club to find Lally, you recognized your father from a distance, didn't you?"

Zoey's expression darkened, and she said softly, "I wasn't sure at the time. When we went downstairs and took the ambulance away, I glanced at the window, and it was him. He thought he could hide by lowering his head, but I recognized him."

"That's my dad. I should be able to recognize him. He always keeps it from me, making me believe he is still the pride of the Silverlight City Criminal Investigation Team, the model for all criminal investigators in this city. He is still a legend."

Zoey's eyes turned red, tears welling up, biting her lip, she said softly, "I know, I know everything... My dad kept it from me, Mr. Martin kept it from me, my mom kept it from me, but how could I not guess?"

"The office of the captain of the state criminal investigation team has long been replaced. Fathers always think their children never grow up. A simple 'Dad is busy' is enough, thinking I wouldn't go looking for him. But I went long ago."

I was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to comfort her. After a long time, I said gently, "He has endured a lot of suffering, too many disappointments that we can't understand. I can feel that he is on the verge of collapse, facing despair, and you have become his only salvation."

"So, Mrs. Smith, I also want to investigate further. I can't let my dad's twenty years of persistence go to waste which will be a huge blow to anyone. Family, affection, status, power... He has lost too much. He is like a blade of grass in a hurricane, ready to break at any moment."

With Zoey's intelligence, she must have heard about Ronald's twenty-year pursuit of the criminal. She recognized Ronald the first time we went to the Entertainment Club but didn't know why he was there. When I told her the Entertainment Club's location was the old steel factory where children were trafficked, everything became clear.

It wasn't hard to deduce that Ronald and I were investigating the same case from different angles and times.

In other words, Zoey's keen interest in this case and her determination to get involved stemmed from her past relationship with me and Alan and her father's persistence.

But the potential danger of this case was unpredictable. We couldn't ignore the existence of danger before it arrived. Before it arrived, it was called danger; after it arrived, it was a disaster.

"Mrs. Smith, let me investigate with you... please."

Zoey pleaded again.

I was resolute this time, not softening my heart to agree. I informed Howard about Zoey's situation, asking him to keep an eye on her and not let her run around. I planned to go to Shadow City tomorrow and wouldn't be in Silverlight City for the next couple of days.

The moon rose, and after so many busy days, tonight at home was the most peaceful.

I had a premonition that this matter was nearing its end, and we would soon have answers.

The urgent task was to find Alan. I firmly believed he was still alive, just caught in an unexpected situation during Frank's planned operation.

I believed in Alan. He must have gone to mediate after suddenly receiving the news, not as a participant.

His favorite poetry collection was still on the sofa. I hadn't moved it, perhaps subconsciously feeling he was still there, but I never opened it.

It was a complex and contradictory emotion. People often oscillated between illusion and reality or deceived themselves. At that time, I knew Alan was gone, but I kept his favorite book nearby as if he were with me.

But I never opened it because I feared the memories would overwhelm me.

People always found a seemingly perfect solution, but it was still self-deception.

I opened Alan's previous notebook, where he had written poems.

"If I say I love you, I will love your past, your tantrums, your imperfections."

"If I say I love you, I will offer my heart, lungs, and all my organs to the god of love who has fallen into hell."

"If I say I love you, I will drain my blood, leaving only my skin to wrap your soul, avoiding the pursuit of death."

"If I say I love you, we will kiss passionately, tongues entwined, bodies merging, a fire dissolving sin and pain."

"We will meet eventually."

This poem itself was nothing special. I turned the page.

Just like life, or all unfortunate events, encounters, and disasters, this page of the book must be turned.

The second page was blank.

But on the back of the first page, written faintly in pencil:

Douglas.