Chapter 8
Edward Quan ·
An ultrasound image was attached.
The comments split into two camps.
Some accused her of trying to whitewash what had happened.
Others said the poor woman was pregnant.
But someone soon laid out the timeline.
“Hang on. Your husband hit someone, then ran over them again. And your first response wasn’t to call the police or get medical help, but to call the victim’s family and say your sister-in-law was driving?”
“First you frame his sister. Then you play the pregnancy card for sympathy. What is this?”
“Ask for help all you like. But explain why you framed someone first.”
The post stayed up for a day before the platform restricted its reach.
By then, screenshots were everywhere.
At noon, while I was cooking noodles, someone knocked.
I thought it was a delivery.
I opened the door.
Four people stood outside.
My mother, my father, my eldest aunt, and a man I didn’t know.
I hadn’t seen my father in two years. He had lost a lot of weight. Half his hair was white. He stood at the back without looking at me.
The stranger wore a suit and tie and carried a briefcase.
My aunt spoke first. “Yanqing, this is your brother’s lawyer. Mr. Liu.”
I didn’t step aside.
“What do you want?”
The lawyer moved half a step forward and offered a business card.
“Ms. Zhao. The case against Zhao Yanwen is currently being investigated as suspected intentional homicide, but there is still room for legal argument. The second pass over the victim shown in the dashcam footage could potentially be defended as an operating error caused by alcohol-impaired awareness.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Zhao Yanwen’s family hopes you’ll write a statement expressing understanding—”
“I’m not the victim. You’ve come to the wrong person.”
“Not that kind of statement.” He opened his briefcase. “A family statement. As Zhao Yanwen’s blood relative, you could tell the court about his usual conduct, character, and family circumstances. That could help us seek a reduced sentence—”
“No.”
Behind him, my father stirred. He seemed about to speak, but nothing came out.
My mother pushed past him and crowded the doorway.
“Yanqing, it’s only two pages. We’re not asking you to do anything else—”
“Mom. Listen carefully.”
I leaned against the doorframe and looked at her.
“From today on, I have nothing to do with Zhao Yanwen. Send a lawyer. Send relatives to talk me round. Send anyone you like. I won’t write anything. I won’t sign anything. I won’t go to court for him. I won’t put in a good word.”
“We’re family. How can you—”
“Family?”
I turned to my father.
At last, he raised his eyes.
“Dad. Say something.”
His mouth opened.
“Your wife used a fake driver’s license to frame your daughter. Your son named me so I’d take the blame. And today you’ve brought a lawyer to my door to ask me for a character reference. Say something.”
His lips moved.
“Yanqing… he’s your brother…”
“He is.” I nodded. “In those seven seconds, when he hit that person, reversed, and drove over them again, did he remember he had a sister?”
Nobody answered.
The sound-activated light in the hall went out. Nothing triggered it again. Five people stood in the dark.
“Go home. Don’t come back.”
I closed the door.
As it shut, my mother’s voice rose outside.
“Zhao Yanqing, you’ll regret this! Just you wait!”
I fastened the chain.
Back in the kitchen, the noodles had burned.
I threw them out and put fresh water on.
While I waited for it to boil, I made a call.
Officer Tao.
“Officer Tao, I’d like to ask something. If I want to cut off contact with my family, is there a legal procedure?”
“You mean severing family ties? There’s no legal procedure for that. But you can move, change your number, and block all contact. If they come to your home and harass you, you can report it to the police.”
“What if they keep coming?”
“You can apply to the court for a personal protection order.”
“All right. Thank you.”
I hung up. The water boiled.
I put the noodles in.
This batch didn’t burn.
The eighth day.
Mr. Fang called.
“Ms. Zhao. My father passed away this morning.”
I stood by the window, my hand tightening around the phone.