Fresh out of college, I landed a job that paid five hundred grand a year.

My mother was so happy she threw a celebration dinner, laughing as she nudged me to go around and toast everyone.

At the party, relatives praised how far I'd come.

My high school teacher said I had a limitless future.

The couple from next door even pressed a thick red envelope into my hand.

I finished my drink, my heart pounding fast, my face flushing redder and redder.

"Keep drinking, everyone. I'll go buy another bottle of whiskey."

My mother stood up.

The chair scraped against the floor with a harsh screech.

My whole body seized up.

By the time I came back to myself, the fruit knife from the table was already in my hand.

The next second, beyond my control, I drove the knife into my own neck.

……

Warm blood splashed across my mother's face.

Still gripping the fruit knife, I crumpled at her feet.

The relatives reacted first, shrieking as they scrambled back.

The auntie from next door was the first to lunge over, pressing her coat down hard against my neck.

She shouted at my mother,

"Ina Dickerson, what are you standing there for?!"

"Call the police, call an ambulance!"

By the time the patrol car and the ambulance arrived, I had stopped breathing.

The police tape went up fast, the celebration spread still steaming on the table.

Bill Chavez, captain of the City Major Crimes Unit, crouched down to examine the wound on my neck.

Beside him, intern Martha Lambert was giving her report.

"The victim, Elaine Fox, twenty-two, a finance graduate from Ashford University."

"Tonight's dinner was to celebrate Elaine getting hired at the Sterling Group. Halfway through the meal, she suddenly stabbed herself in the neck with a knife."

"We checked the knife. It's just an ordinary fruit knife, the kind you can buy anywhere."

Bill frowned.

"Ashford University, the best school in the city."

"The Sterling Group, the best company around, paying five figures a month."

"She had everything going for her. Why would she kill herself?"

"Before she did it, did anyone do anything?"

Martha hesitated.

"Yes. The victim's mother said she was going to keep drinking and go buy another bottle of whiskey."

Seeing Bill's frown deepen, Martha quickly pulled out her phone.

"This is the security footage from the victim's home."

On the screen, I was smiling the whole time.

Toasting my elders, chatting with my teacher, even topping off the neighbors' glasses without being asked.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until my mother stood up.

She said with a smile, "Keep drinking, everyone. I'll go buy another bottle of whiskey."

On the screen, I suddenly froze, the smile draining slowly from my face.

The next second, I picked up the fruit knife from the table and drove it into my own neck.

Martha couldn't bear to watch and shut her eyes.

The video ended.

"Captain, was she drunk?"

"Drunk people don't act like that."

Bill lifted his eyes from the phone screen.

He walked over to my mother.

"Ms. Dickerson, besides that sentence, what else did you say?"

My mother stood in the doorway, blood still not wiped clean from her hair.

At the question, she answered a little sluggishly,

"Nothing. I really only said I was going down to buy another bottle of whiskey."

"But there were already two bottles of whiskey in the house. Why would you go buy another?"

My mother raised her eyes, the rims of them red, her voice turning sharp.

"I was just worried it wouldn't be enough. Ellie landing a good job is a big happy occasion. If the drinks ran out, the guests would think we were being rude."

"Officer, are you saying I'm the one who killed my daughter?"

"Are you saying my daughter would choose to take her own life over one sentence like that?"

It didn't add up.

Bill turned back to the footage, replayed that one sentence three times over, and it was still just the most ordinary sentence.

But somehow, once I heard it, I died.

Seeing Bill say nothing, my mother must have felt her earlier tone had been off.

"I'm sorry. I just can't take it in. I got carried away."

"Only yesterday she was talking to me about it, saying that once her first paycheck came in she'd take the four of us to New York. I truly never imagined something like this would happen to her today."

As she spoke, the tears spilled over again.

My soul drifted in the air.

Watching my mother wipe her eyes, I felt hollow inside.

Why? We'd agreed to go to New York, and yet I chose to end my own life.

After dying, I no longer remembered.

But at my mother's words, Bill suddenly lifted his head, his eyes fixing on one spot.

"Ms. Dickerson, you just said the four of you?"

"Then why are there only two bedrooms in this apartment?"

My mother paused.

"Back when my husband and I were recruited to the city as skilled hires, the apartment was assigned to us. We'd planned on only one child. When the little one came along by surprise, we just had the two girls squeeze in together for a while."

"Later, as they grew up, Ellie was mostly away at school, and she'd work over the summer and winter breaks too, so she rarely stayed home. Her sister gradually got used to having the second bedroom to herself."

Bill narrowed his eyes. "Why doesn't the sister stay at school?"

"Today was the celebration dinner. Where did the sister and the father go?"

My mother dabbed at her eyes again.

"Her sister has a congenital heart condition. She can't be left without someone caring for her. My husband and I are both high school teachers, so teaching her at home is no trouble."

"She'd meant to come to the dinner today too, but she ran a fever a few days ago and had to be taken back to the hospital."

"My husband has been there with her the whole time."

"Officer, please don't go bother them at the hospital, all right?"

"The two girls have been close since they were little. I'm afraid that if she finds out, she won't be able to bear it."

Bill was quiet for a dozen seconds or so. He didn't press further, just turned and walked into the second bedroom.

The other detectives followed, doing a quick search.

The room was cozy.

The closet stood open, full of a girl's dresses.

The desk was covered in schoolbooks.

Photos of the two sisters growing up were pinned across the wall.

Perfectly ordinary.

But years on the job left Bill with an instinctive sense that something was wrong.

Just as he was about to think it through, Martha pulled open a desk drawer and cut him off.

"Captain, there's a diary in here."

Bill pulled on gloves and took it.

"Ms. Dickerson, to investigate your daughter's death, we need to look at what's inside."

My mother gave a small nod.

Bill didn't start at the first page. He flipped straight to the back.

【*May 25, 2026.*】

【*The thesis defense is over.*】

【*My professor said my graduation thesis qualifies for top marks.*】

【*I'm really happy.*】

【*But he… texted me again.*】

Bill turned the pages forward.

【*June 3, 2026.*】

【*Mom says she wants to throw me a celebration dinner.*】

【*There's really no need to go to all that trouble.*】

【*But if it makes her happy, then it's fine.*】

【*With the job, I owe so much to Mom and Dad.*】

【*If only he didn't exist.*】

Bill kept turning until the last page.

【*June 16, 2026.*】

【*Three more days until graduation.*】

【*I hope my sister gets discharged soon.*】

【*Once the celebration dinner is over, the whole family will go to the commencement ceremony together.*】

【*When we do, we absolutely have to take a new family photo.*】

Reading this far, Martha let out a soft breath.

"Captain, she doesn't seem like someone who wanted to kill herself at all."

Bill said nothing.

His eyes had stopped on the last line.

The strokes there were heavier than anything above them.

As if she'd written it over and over.

*There's one more person.*

*After I graduate.*

*I have to go see him.*

*I have to.*

After that, not a single word.

And turning back a few pages, several entries had been torn clean out.

Martha stared for a moment.

"Who is this 'him,' anyway?"

No one answered.

Who was this "him"?

Even I had forgotten.

And just then—a shrill ring.

A phone had started to ring.

Everyone turned at once.

The sound came from the desk drawer.

Gloved, Martha eased the drawer open.

A white phone lay inside.

Its screen flashed on and off.

"Whose phone is this?"

Bill asked my mother, but she only shook her head.

"I don't know. I've never seen this phone before."

The ringing stopped, and the lock screen showed itself.

A bottle of whiskey.

Then the phone rang again.

Bill's head snapped toward Martha.

"Answer it."

The second she pressed the button.

A young man's voice came through from the other end.

"Elaine?"

The whole room went quiet in an instant.

Bill shot my mother a look.

She took the phone at once.

"This is Elaine's mother. Who is this, please?"

Two seconds of silence on the line.

Then a click, and the call went dead.

Bill's expression darkened.

"Run that number now, get the account holder notified, and get them down to the station to cooperate. Immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Martha turned and hurried out.

Bill looked back at my mother.

"This person—do you know him?"

She shook her head.

He didn't press her. He turned and walked out of the apartment.

Beyond the tape, a crowd of gawkers had already gathered.

Other detectives were working the building, door to door.

As Bill passed, he happened to catch an older woman out walking her dog.

"Is it the daughter of that high-school-teacher couple who died?"

"A few nights ago, I think I saw Elaine arguing with some man."

Bill stopped in his tracks.

"When was this?"

"Around eleven at night, right downstairs."

"Tall fellow, about five-nine, wore glasses."

"Elaine was always such a quiet girl, but that night she up and slapped him across the face. Gave me a real fright."

Just then, the tech unit sent over the ID tied to the phone number.

The man in the photo was young and handsome, glasses on his face.

Bill held the phone out.

"Is this him?"

The woman peered at it for a few seconds, then shook her head.

"Too dark that night. Couldn't make out his face."

Bill pocketed the phone.

A full round of the building turned up nothing else worth having.

Back at the station, Martha came to meet him.

"Captain, the guy who was in contact with Elaine is here."

"Also, we've finished statements from everyone at the celebration dinner. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Elaine's parents are getting ready to head back too."

Bill nodded.

Crossing the lobby, he saw my father and mother sitting side by side on the long bench.

My father's head was bowed. Overnight he'd aged ten years.

The neighbor couple sat beside them, pressing tissues into their hands, murmuring comfort.

When they saw Bill go by, the two of them even gave him a nod.

Bill didn't stop. He walked straight into the interview room, where a young man was already seated.