Captain Jenkins finally lost all patience with me.

"What's with the incessant questions? You did this to yourself and are only reaping what you've sown! You can't blame anyone else but yourself for this!"

I laughed, the sound echoing in the room eerily.

"You're right. Who else can I blame?" I muttered to myself.

Then, I reached out and felt around till I brushed against the statement record.

Just as Captain Jenkins thought I would sign it, I mustered every bit of strength in my body to tear it into shreds.

The scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like falling snow.

Captain Jenkins was utterly dumbfounded, clearly not expecting that I would dare do that.

"You… Are you nuts?" He jumped to his feet and jabbed a finger at me, yelling, "You're resisting arrest, which is an additional charge that will make things worse for you!"

Meeting his fury head-on, I calmly said, "I won't admit to something I didn't do. You can fabricate the evidence, or you can beat me up. Whatever you do, don't think that you can make me submit. You want me to confess to those crimes? Well, over my dead body."

My words had the same effect as if a resounding slap was sent across his cheek. His face reddened, then purpled.

"Alright! Fine!" His entire body was trembling from the extent of his rage. "You have guts, I'll give you that! Let's see just how much you can take, then!"

Following that, he spun on his heel and stomped toward the door, where he bellowed, "Men, cuff him up and submit an official detainment form! I'll make him learn what the authority of the law truly is!"

Seconds later, two officers rushed inside and roughly yanked me off the bed. Once again, I had cuffs slapped over my wrists, but this time, they were much tighter, enough to cause me pain.

With the officers shoving me from behind, I could only stumble my way forward.

At that moment, my phone rang. The monotonous electronic voice typical of a blind-accessible phone then spoke up, telling me I had a call.

Impatience radiated from one of the police officers, and he moved to hang up.

However, I said, "Let me answer it."

My voice was calm and steady, leaving no room for negotiation.

The officers hesitated, only for Captain Jenkins to shout, "As if! Take him away!"

"If this phone call causes you to miss the 'truth' you're so eager to uncover, you'll have to bear the consequences yourselves."

That had Captain Jenkins freezing on the spot and shooting me a suspicious look.

In the end, though, he still gestured for one of the officers to hand me my phone.

I felt around till I found the "accept" button and pressed it. Immediately, a familiar female voice came over the line, tone cold and distant.

"Mr. Luson, it's me, your landlady. I'm giving you three days to move out of my house. I don't want a disgusting pervert staying in my unit."

The woman was none other than my landlady, Mary Liese. Not a hint of warmth was in her voice.

"Mrs. Liese, it's not what you think," I attempted to explain.

"I don't want to hear it!" She cut me off harshly. "I just know that you moved in, and a week later, such an ugly mess happened! The residents' group chat is exploding with messages as everyone is cursing me for renting the place out to you! How am I supposed to rent out that unit in the future? What about my reputation?"

Her voice grew increasingly shrill as she spoke, and it was filled with her fury at being dragged into this matter.

"Mr. Luson, I don't care whether you're truly a pervert or if you're innocent. You only get three days! If you're not moved out by then, I'll have people come in to throw all your belongings out!"

With that, she ended the call, not even waiting for me to respond.

A dead silence descended upon the room.

A gloating expression appeared on Captain Jenkins' face. "Hear that? Feels terrible to be betrayed by everyone you know, doesn't it?"

He then jerked his head at his subordinates. "Take him away!"

I was escorted down a long corridor, but this time, there was no discussion happening in low voices. Instead, everyone stared at me in the way one would look at a piece of trash.

I was shoved into a police car that would take me to the city detention center. Once there, I would wait for my trial.

Outside the windows, the bustling city flashed by before slowly disappearing into the distance behind us. Meanwhile, all I could do was lean against the cold side door and feel my body vibrate along with the vehicle.

Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me under and drown me.

At that moment, my phone rang again. When I accepted the call, the calm, emotionless voice of a female spoke up in a professional tone.

"Mr. Luson, I'm Teresa Kinsley, a lawyer from the legal aid office. I'm now taking over your case."

I blinked in surprise. She was from the legal aid office? But I hadn't applied for any help.

"The police requested it for you," Teresa explained as though she could guess my thoughts. "According to the rules for your situation, a lawyer has to be present."

I understood then.

This was all normal procedure, but in my case, it was a mere formality that we were going through. This Teresa woman had likely already decided that I was guilty, just like Captain Jenkins and everyone else had. She was probably going to advise me to admit to the crimes, then have me sign a bunch of documents.

"I have nothing to say to you," I croaked in a tired voice. "I'm not guilty."

There were several seconds of silence on the phone.

I thought that she would start to lecture me just like Captain Jenkins had, but she didn't.

Instead, she said in a business-like tone, "I've already looked into your case with the police. They found a pair of binoculars and a camera full of illicit photos at your house. Besides that, the victim's testimony is detailed and consistent, while many of your neighbors can testify that you were acting suspiciously. All in all, everything is pointing toward you being guilty."

Her every word smashed into my heart like the blows from a sledgehammer.

"If you insist on pleading not guilty, then once the case goes to trial and the judge accepts the evidence, your sentence will only be harsher."

I shut my eyes, but no tears came.

"So, are you also going to talk me into pleading guilty?"

"No." Teresa's answer stunned me. "I'm not here to persuade you into admitting to the crimes. I'm your lawyer, so my responsibility is to defend your legal rights. Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me. Please speak the truth."

Subsequently, she rattled off some questions with the cool precision of a machine.

"Firstly, are the binoculars and camera yours?"

"No."

"Second question. Were you acquainted with the plaintiff, Rebecca Zangler, before this? Or did you have any interactions with her?"

"No, we weren't acquainted, nor did I ever interact with her."

"Third question. Other than your vision, are your other senses, such as your hearing, more acute than a normal human's?"

That question caused my heart to skip a beat.

She was the first person who had ever thought about the possible changes to my body due to my vision loss.

"Yes."

"Okay."

I thought I could detect a faint hint of emotion enter her voice as she went on, "Mr. Luson, the police will hand you over to the city detention center in half an hour. Before that happens, they'll have you sign a detention notice. Don't sign anything they give you. Just wait for me to arrive."

With that, she ended the call.

I squeezed my phone and realized that a thin layer of sweat had formed on my originally icy palms.

Hope.

In this endless darkness and despair, Teresa had given me a sliver of hope. It didn't matter that it was as weak as a candle flame guttering in the wind, liable to go out at any moment. Hope was still hope.

Eventually, the police car stopped before I was led into an office. Captain Jenkins tossed a document at me.

"Sign it!"

I shook my head. "My lawyer will be here soon. I won't sign anything before she arrives."

Immediately, Captain Jenkins' face flushed a bright red. As though he had heard the most ridiculous thing in the world, he scoffed derisively, "A lawyer? As if you could afford to hire one! Let me tell you right now that it's useless! No one can save you, no matter who comes!"

Following that, he seized my hand and forced me to grab the pen.

At that moment, the office door was shoved open before a woman dressed in professional attire strode into the room.

She took a second to process the scene before her, then she frowned slightly.

"Hold it." Her voice wasn't loud, yet it held an undeniable air of authority. "I'm Mr. Charles Luson's defense attorney, Teresa Kinsley. In a situation where my client has clearly expressed his refusal to sign, any attempts to force him will be considered illegal."

Captain Jenkins stared at the woman who had suddenly appeared, his face paling before going red. Releasing my hand, he scrutinized Teresa, noting the authoritative air she exuded.

In a less-than-friendly voice, he demanded, "Who are you? Who let you in here?"

Teresa took out an authorization letter and her attorney's license and smacked them down on the table.

"I was appointed by the legal aid center. These are my credentials and authorization letter. Now, I wish to speak with my client alone."

Captain Jenkins' expression turned ugly. He picked up the documents and scanned them carefully, as though he were trying to look for anything that was out of place.

Unfortunately for him, he failed as Teresa had done everything by the book. There was nothing he could nitpick on.

"Hmph! The legal aid center, huh…" he muttered disdainfully. Still, he didn't stop her from speaking with me. "You have ten minutes."

Face twisted into a scowl, he stalked out of the room along with the others, leaving Teresa and me alone.

I could hear her high heels clicking against the floor as she made her way to me.

At last, the footsteps halted in front of me, and the faint smell of paper, ink, and a cool perfume wafted into my nostrils.

"Mr. Luson," she started calmly. "Earlier, while we were talking on the phone, you said that your hearing was more acute than a normal human's. Could you elaborate on that?"

I hadn't expected that to be her priority concern right now.

"After losing my sight, my other senses, particularly my hearing and touch, became incredibly sensitive. From the frequency and weight of someone's footsteps, I can deduce their height, weight, and even mood."

Pausing briefly, I added, "I can even hear a lot of things that most people wouldn't notice."

Teresa was silent for a moment as she processed my words.

Then, she asked a vital question, "Have you heard anything unusual coming from the apartment unit across from yours?"

My heart abruptly started pounding.

"Yes," I answered softly. "Rebecca isn't living alone."