On Christmas Eve, my friend, Lenny Gibson, sends me a text message.

"I've rented a Maybach for our cat so that we can go back to our hometown for the holidays. It'll be seven thousand dollars per person. The car is fitted with air conditioning and security cameras. Don't you think this is a good deal?"

I glance at my bank app, which has just deducted my monthly house mortgage from my account.

"Nah. Bebe isn't a spoiled princess. I can't afford to rent such an expensive car."

The next day, I receive a selfie of Lenny hugging Bebe while seated in the Maybach.

"It's such a shame that you aren't here, Noah. The Maybach's owner is a hot chick, not to mention she's kind-hearted enough to give me a ride home as well!"

On the evening of Christmas, I hear sounds of rapid knocking coming from the front door as soon as I enter the house.

Lenny's anxious parents can be seen standing on the doorstep.

"Is Lenny here with you? He hasn't come home at all! He told us yesterday that he wanted to prepare a birthday gift for you, so he had us give him 20 thousand dollars!"

Before I can recover from my shock, the police come knocking on my door as well.

It turns out that I'm the last person Lenny has contacted…

I was just getting ready for a nap when Lenny's message came through.

"Seven thousand dollars—what a lucky number. It's the Christmas season, so of course we can't shortchange our furbabies. This is my bonus. Our cat is a little princess, and she deserves only the best."

I didn't read the rest of his messages, because the moment I saw seven thousand dollars, I was so shocked that all my sleepiness vanished.

I quickly typed back, "Seven thousand dollars?"

"Yeah," Lenny replied immediately. "Our cat is a little princess. Just imagine how jealous the other cats would be if they rode back in a Maybach."

I stared at this message, still reeling in disbelief.

Even I, the owner, had never ridden in a Maybach. Yet, Lenny expected me to spend seven thousand dollars so my cat could ride in one?

Seeing that I didn't reply, Lenny immediately sent a voice message.

"Why aren't you replying? I'm doing you a favor here."

I sighed and screenshotted the message my boss, Zane Hampton, had sent me that morning to show Lenny.

It wasn't like I was trying to be difficult. The company wasn't doing well, and I was worried about getting laid off.

Thinking of this, I wrote, "Lenny, I'm about to lose my job. So, I'm definitely not in the same boat as you, who's getting a year-end bonus. I'd love to go back with you, but I really can't afford to split the fare, nor am I shameless enough to tag along."

The "typing" indicator showed for quite a while.

Then, Lenny replied, "I'd like to help cover your share too, but my bonus is just enough for me to buy my parents new clothes."

After I said I understood, he stopped sending messages.

When I got home late after working overtime, Bebe, my cat, meowed at me.

I cradled her in my arms.

"You're my little princess, Bebe. But I don't have the money to let you ride in a Maybach. I can only send you by air freight. Sorry, my little princess."

Bebe nestled docilely against my chest, and my heart absolutely melted at the sight of it.

It'd only cost one thousand dollars to fly Bebe back by air freight. Besides, I wasn't exactly rolling in money, so why would I choose to spend seven thousand dollars on a ride home?

Bebe was my furbaby, so it was only natural that she could understand where I was coming from.

I felt relieved that I'd managed to save the seven thousand dollars. That was an entire month's pay, and I'd have to go without eating to save it.

That night I dreamed, and even in my dream I was happy that the seven thousand dollars hadn't gone to waste.

Early the next morning, I checked Bebe in for air freight and set off on my way home.

On the plane, I was already planning what gifts I'd buy for my parents with the remaining six thousand dollars.

By the time I got home, dusk had fallen.

My mother, Josephine Frost, had filled the house with the aroma of her cooking.

My father, Malcolm Freeman, took the gifts from my hands and couldn't stop smiling.

I hadn't even sat down to eat when the loud, frantic banging on the door began.

I opened the door and found Lenny's mother, Briana Hall, standing outside. Her eyes were frighteningly red, her hair messy and disheveled.

"Lenny? Where is he?"

I was completely confused. "Mrs. Gibson, I didn't come back with Lenny."

She shoved past me and pushed open the room doors one by one to look inside.

"Lenny, come out right now. Your dad and I are here to pick you up."

But the only reply was the hollow sound of the wind.

I walked over and asked, "Mrs. Gibson, I think there's been a misunderstanding. Lenny's not with me."

Mrs. Gibson fixed her gaze on me. "You're lying, aren't you? Lenny called me yesterday and said he was coming back with you in the same car. Now you're back, but where is he?"

I frowned. "Mrs. Gibson, you must be mistaken. Lenny and I did not come back toge—"

Before I could finish my sentence, a heavy slap landed on my face.

"How dare you still lie? Did you do something to Lenny? You'd better bring him out right now!"

I pressed my tongue against the inside of my numb cheek.

The good mood I'd had coming home was now completely ruined.

"I don't know if you'll believe me, but Lenny and I really did not come back together," I said coldly.

With that, I tapped open my chat log and showed her the plane ticket I'd bought to come home.

Mrs. Gibson stared at the screen, her hands beginning to tremble.

"That's impossible. He told me just yesterday that he was with you, that you were taking the car back together. He even had me transfer 20 thousand dollars to him because he said it was your birthday and he wanted to buy a gift."

My heart skipped a beat.

I had been furious at Mrs. Gibson for slapping me. But when I saw the look on her face, my anger melted away. She was only behaving like this because she was so worried about Lenny.

I quickly said, "Mrs. Gibson, Lenny and I really didn't come back together. He took an Uber back on his own. Maybe his phone is off, or he got delayed on the way. Why don't you try contacting him through the app?"

The moment those words left my mouth, Mrs. Gibson took my hand, her eyes reddening.

"Noah, you're Lenny's best friend. Please help me," she pleaded.

Suddenly, her legs gave way. She collapsed to the floor, her forehead hitting the corner of the coffee table with a dull thud.

Mom and I quickly helped her up.

"Please don't be like this. I'll try to get in touch right now," I said, logging into my Uber account.

I remembered that before he left, Lenny had sent me a photo.

I sent that very photo to Uber's customer service. Their response was that no such car existed.

Hearing this, Mrs. Gibson couldn't hold back any longer. Her face went pale, and she fainted on the spot.

I immediately called 911.

And just like that, a perfectly good Christmas Eve was ruined, and no one was in the mood for anything.

That night, I sat on the couch with Mom, talking about what had happened.

"Thank goodness you didn't take that car. Otherwise, I'd be lying in the hospital right now too," Mom said with relief.

I just frowned slightly.

I didn't understand what Lenny was trying to do. Why did he say he was coming back with me?

Something just felt off.

Mom realized it too. She took my hand and asked, "Noah, are you absolutely sure you didn't agree to ride back with him?"

Mom and I looked at each other, and I felt the blood drain from my body.

He paid for the car ride with his own money, and he was already an adult. So, why did he need to use me as a shield?

No matter how long I thought about it, I just couldn't understand why.

Mom patted my head. "If you really can't figure it out, then don't. This has nothing to do with you. It's late, and you've had a long day. Go get some rest."

The next morning, I had barely woken up when Mrs. Gibson showed up again.

The moment she saw me, her eyes reddened.

"Mrs. Gibson, I've told you many times that I came back by plane, whereas he took an Uber back early with his cat."

Before Mrs. Gibson could respond, her husband, William Gibson, stood up.

Mr. Gibson stared at me intently and said, "I don't believe a single word you're saying. You're Lenny's only friend, and you two lived in the same city. So, how could you possibly not come back together? That chat log must be fake. What did you do to Lenny?"

His suspicious gaze fell on me.

At that moment, I just wanted to laugh.

"Mr. Gibson, despite your continually bothering me, the fact that you two are Lenny's parents is why you have my sympathy. But that doesn't mean you can slander me however you please. I've already told you that I didn't come back with him, and the chat log proves it."

After they finished speaking, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson knelt on the ground and begged, "Noah, please just tell us where Lenny is. He's our only son and our everything."

Their voices were so loud that all the neighbors came out to see what was going on.

Some of them spoke up in their defense.

"Don't be so selfish, Noah. They're just worried about their son."

"That's right. If you know where he is, just tell me. Don't let them worry like this."

"We've watched you grow up—how have you turned out like this?"

Looking at Mr. and Mrs. Gibson kneeling on the ground, I just found the whole thing absolutely absurd.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't know where he is? I'm just as clueless as the two of you."

Tears streamed down Mrs. Gibson's face.

"Lenny was ready to spend 20 thousand dollars on a gift for you, so why'd you come back just to hurt him?"

They just kept rambling on, and I couldn't get a word in at all.

After clearing my throat, I explained, "First of all, I have nothing to do with that 20 thousand dollars, nor was it spent on me. Finally, let me say this one last time—I don't know where he is. If you really don't believe me, we can call the police."

As soon as I finished speaking, two police officers stepped out of the elevator.

They looked at me and said, "Mr. Freeman, we need you to cooperate with our investigation into Lenny Gibson's disappearance."

I frowned but still invited the two officers into my home.

Sitting on the couch, the older officer fixed me with a sharp gaze.

"Mr. Freeman, do you really not know the whereabouts of Lenny Gibson?"

I rolled my eyes, utterly speechless.

Since yesterday, I'd been asked countless times whether I knew where Lenny was.

I recounted the entire story and even showed them the chat log and plane ticket.

I just didn't get it. All my records were right there for them to check, so how did the police still end up coming after me?

The two officers exchanged a glance and then said, "Mr. Freeman, according to our investigation, that Maybach is a dead end. All of the owner's identification information was false. Aside from you, Lenny didn't mention any of this to anyone else."

Their expressions were serious, and they looked at me as if I were a suspect.

I met their gaze. "So what? Because I'm his friend, that makes me a suspect?" I snorted. "Police work must be really easy these days."

As soon as I finished speaking, the younger officer slammed his hand on the table.

"Are you still trying to lie? We've already looked into it. Yesterday, around 6:00 pm, Lenny called you, and you answered. You claim you don't know where he is, so why were you the only person he called after getting into that car? On top of that, you're the last person he contacted."

I honestly didn't know what to say.

"Officers, I've told you everything I know. I really don't know where he is."

I explained everything all over again, not leaving out a single detail.

It wasn't until I was utterly drained that the two of them finally let up on me.

As they were leaving, the older officer turned to me and said, "Mr. Freeman, there's one thing I can't figure out. Lenny called you at around 4:00 pm. What did you two talk about for only 58 seconds?"

I subconsciously balled up the hands hanging by my sides.

I forced down the panic and tried to stay calm.

"It was just small talk between friends, like complaining about traffic and talking about the cat."

I thought they would keep digging. But instead, they simply stood up.

"Mr. Freeman, if you remember any details at all, please contact us right away."

My thoughts drifted elsewhere, but I quickly nodded.

"Okay."

The door closed, and I collapsed onto the floor of the entryway. My hands were still trembling.

They couldn't possibly know about that, right?

No, definitely not.

Otherwise, they would have asked me about it.

I tried hard to calm myself down.