Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 48

Zhan's POV

Wang hasn't come to see me. Not once. Neither did Cheng. And honestly... I don't blame them.

I don't even know how I feel about myself anymore. Everything feels heavy, my body, my thoughts, my heart. I sit in this cold, quiet cell and stare at nothing, thinking about nothing, because even my mind doesn't want to be mine anymore. It's easier to shut down. It's easier to stop caring. To stop hoping.

My reflection in the scratched metal sink looks like a stranger, eyes dull, skin pale, lips cracked. I used to care about how I looked. Used to smile. Used to believe in better days. Now? I'm just... here. Existing. Waiting.

Waiting for what? A verdict? A miracle? For Wang to burst in and say everything will be fine? That the world hasn't completely turned against me?

That would be nice.

But I don't believe in nice things anymore.

There's a hole inside me where confidence used to live. Where dignity once stood proud. Now it's just dust and silence and shame. Even if I'm innocent, even if they know I'm innocent. I don't think I can come back from this. I feel... tainted. Like even my truth is too dirty for anyone to want.

I curl up on the thin mattress, turning my face to the wall. The stone is cold against my skin, grounding in a way nothing else is.

If Wang doesn't come... I'll understand.

If no one comes... I already have.

Three days later, the guard came to my cell, saying I had a visitor. My heart skipped, Wang, I thought. Maybe he finally came.

I was right... and I was wrong.

Wang's mother stood beside the glass, her heels clicking sharply on the floor as she took a seat across from me. Her expression was calm, but not kind. Calculated. She didn't even pretend to smile.

I picked up the phone on my end of the glass partition, and after a heartbeat, she did the same.

"Hello, ma," I said quietly.

"Zhan," she replied, eyes sharp as ever. "You look... well, as expected."

I didn't respond. There was nothing to say. Her gaze swept over me with mild distaste, like I was a problem she was tired of fixing.

"I'm here to offer you something," she finally said, leaning forward slightly. "Freedom."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I can make this all disappear," she continued smoothly. "The charges, the media, the swamp, everything. I can pull strings you don't even know exist. You walk free."

I stared at her, wary. "Why?"

She tilted her head. "Because my son is foolishly attached to you. And I don't want his life ruined."

I swallowed. My throat felt dry.

"There's only one condition," she said. "You leave him. For good. You tell him it's over. No dramatic goodbyes. No letters. No looking back."

I felt my chest tighten. "You want me to break him."

"I want you to save him," she snapped. "He's still salvageable. With Lusi, with a future. Not with you. Not with this... stain on his name."

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling.

"Think about it," she said coolly. "Your freedom... or his ruin."