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."

"At least three times in the days before Rebecca called the police, I've heard two sets of footsteps coming from her unit in the late hours of the night. The lighter one is hers, but there was also a deliberate heaviness to them, like she was hiding something.

"The other set was incredibly light, almost inaudible. However, that person has an unusual gait, as their left foot lands a little heavier than their right. I think that it's a man, and he may have a leg injury."

I had never told anyone else about these details, as I knew the police would simply assume that it was the absurd delusion of a blind man.

However, Teresa was listening to me very intently.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. That man seems to be trying to look for something. I would hear the sound of furniture being moved around gently and the soft rustling of clothing as he digs through the closets.

"The day Rebecca called the police, she was in an exceptionally excited mood, as her heartbeat was at least 20% faster than usual. That's not the sort of fearful response a victim would feel, but more like… the excitement at the success of a plan."

Once I finished speaking, I quietly waited for her response.

I wasn't sure if she would believe me. After all, these were simply my observations from what I had "heard". There was no solid proof to my claims.

The office fell into a silence so profound that I could even hear Teresa's steady breathing.

A long while later, she finally spoke up.

"I got it."

I couldn't discern anything from the tone of her voice.

"Mr. Luson, here's what'll happen next. You'll likely have to stay in this detention center for a while. During this time, don't get into any conflicts with the rest of the inmates, and make sure to protect yourself well. I'll try to get to the bottom of this as quickly as I can."

With that, she turned and walked away, proven by the clicking of her heels growing fainter.

The door opened, then shut.

Captain Jenkins approached me and sneered mockingly, "Oh? Has your savior left you? I can tell you right now that you should just give up on all hope. There are different leagues even among the lawyers, so what sort of trouble can a defense attorney from the legal aid center possibly stir up? Anyway, your time's up! Take him away, boys!"

I was once again escorted out of the room.

Nonetheless, this time, my world wasn't completely dark.

Teresa Kinsley.

The name splashed into the placid waters of my heart like a pebble, sending ripples across it.

Although I didn't know if she would be able to help me, at least she had been willing to believe that a blind man like me could hear things that others couldn't. She was the first to do that, and that was enough.

…

My stay in the detention center was a lot harder than I had expected.

I was placed in a cell with seven other people. Since my reputation as a pervert had preceded me, I instantly became the target of bullying.

They would deliberately overturn my food, pour cold water over me when I slept, and even hide my white cane away.

I didn't fight back, nor did I report their actions to the officers. I simply silently endured it all, for I knew that, in here, the weak fighting back would only invite even harsher retribution onto themselves.

Thus, I used my acute sense of hearing to avoid the most dangerous attacks. Besides that, I kept quiet most of the time to try to minimize my existence and go unnoticed.

Like a stone tossed into a lake, I sank to the bottom and waited for any news from Teresa.

On the fifth day, she returned.

Through the thick glass separating us in the visitation room, I "saw" her.

She seemed rather tired, but her gaze was as sharp as ever.

"Mr. Luson, I've discovered some interesting information." She didn't bother beating around the bush. "The apartment unit across from you is actually rented to another person, not Rebecca Zangler."