Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 52

Zhan's Pov.

The courtroom was heavy with silence after the last video cut to black. My breathing was shallow, my hands were cold despite the warmth in the room. I didn't even realize I was trembling until Mr Fengmian gently touched my shoulder.

The judge cleared his throat, visibly shaken, and adjusted his glasses like he needed to collect himself.

"The court," he finally said, his voice just slightly unsteady, "is adjourned for one hour."

His gavel came down with a soft thud, but it sounded like thunder in my ears.

People started moving, some stood, others whispered, some just sat there in stunned silence. I couldn't move. My legs wouldn't let me.

Then, I felt it, a stare. The kind of stare that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

I lifted my head.

The judge was still looking at me. But it wasn't just sympathy or formality anymore. There was a glimmer of something else, sadness, yes... but also a certain unease. Then his eyes shifted, just slightly, over my shoulder.

Curious, and unsure why my heart had started pounding, I turned my head to follow his line of sight.

She was standing near the back, half in the shadows.

Mrs. Wang.

Her eyes were fixed on the judge, her face unreadable, but the intensity in her gaze made my blood run cold. Her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line, and though she didn't say a word, it was like her expression spoke volumes.

Then she turned those eyes to me.

I flinched.

She didn't look angry. She didn't look sad.

She looked calculating.

Like she was reevaluating a chessboard and just realized she'd made a mistake. Like she was realizing something about me she hadn't wanted to believe before.

And that scared the hell out of me.

I dropped my eyes, suddenly dizzy. My throat tightened. I could hear voices around me but they were muffled, like underwater.

I hated this.

I hated that look.

And I hated what it meant.

Because whatever game she had played before, it was changing now. And I had no idea what move she was planning next.

Dre led me out into the hallway where it was quieter, away from the courtroom's tension that still clung to my skin like damp clothes. He didn't say much, he just handed me a paper bag with food. Rice and chicken, the smell warm and familiar, but foreign too, like I hadn't eaten something normal in years.

I took a few bites. Chewed slowly. Swallowed even slower. My throat felt like sandpaper.

Dre sat beside me, silent, giving me space the way he always did.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen. "It's your grandmother," he said softly, holding it out to me.

My hand froze midair. For a second, I just stared at the phone like it was a ghost.

Then I took it.

"Hello?" My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

There was silence on the other end. And then

"Zhan?" she breathed, like she was afraid saying my name would shatter the moment.