What those people did not know was that sometimes, what the eyes saw was the greatest lie of all.

I, a blind woman, could hear things none of them could. For example, when Curtis accused me, his heartbeat was steady, and there was not a single ripple of guilt or panic.

…

The interrogation room in the police station was lit by a harsh white fluorescent light. The air smelled faintly of mildew. I sat in a cold metal chair. Across from me were Officer Wright and a female officer taking notes.

“Name.”

“Yvie Lane.”

“Age.”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Occupation.”

“Unemployed.”

Officer Wright slammed his pen down on the table. The sharp sound cut through the room. “Yvie, I suggest you start telling the truth! There’s witness testimony and physical evidence. How long are you going to keep denying it?”

I tilted my head slightly toward the direction of his voice. My tone was still calm. “May I ask, who is the witness? And what is the evidence?”

“The witness is the victim, Curtis! And the evidence…” Officer Wright paused for a moment. His voice was noticeably faltering. “The evidence is still being collected! Don’t think denying it will get you out of this!”

His voice rose, trying to overwhelm me with pressure.

“Curtis has already explained everything! You moved in a week ago and started targeting him. You knocked on his door every night at exactly 8:00 pm. While he was showering, you used binoculars to spy on him from across the hall!

“Not only that, you even took photos of him and sold them on overseas websites! This is a serious crime! If you confess now, you can still get leniency!”

I almost laughed. It was impressively detailed. The time, place, behavior, and motive were neatly arranged. If I were not the one being accused, I might have believed it myself.

“Officer Wright," I cut him off. “First, I don’t own binoculars. Second, I have no so-called ‘tools.’ My computer and phone were replaced three years ago with assistive devices for the visually impaired. They cannot take photos or display images.”

I paused for a moment. My voice was slow and precise. “Third, and most importantly, I am completely blind.”

There was a brief silence in the room.

Officer Wright’s breathing grew heavier. “I already told you, don’t use that as an excuse! Whether you’re really blind will be confirmed by a medical examination! Until then, you're the prime suspect!”

At that moment, the door opened. A young officer poked his head in. “Sir, the victim is very emotional. He’s been crying nonstop, saying he’ll report us to higher authorities for protecting the suspect.”

Officer Wright’s expression darkened instantly.

“Got it.” He waved the officer away, then turned back to me. His voice was colder than before.

“Do you understand the pressure we’re under because of you? He’s a top university student. This case has public attention. If we mishandle it, the entire precinct will be held accountable.”

I finally understood. He cared about the outcome more than the truth. Or more precisely, he was looking for a quick, convenient outcome. The easiest way to get it was for me to confess.

“So, just to avoid accountability, I should admit to something I never did?”

My question clearly set Officer Wright off.

“What kind of attitude is that? Do you even know where you are?!” Officer Wright let out a cold laugh. “Let me make this clear. Once you’re in here, don’t put on airs. And just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean you’re the victim! You won’t talk? Fine. We’ve got plenty of ways to make you talk!”

The chair screeched harshly as it was shoved back. He rose to his feet and lowered his voice. “Lock her up first. Once we get the warrant, search her place thoroughly. I want to see how long she can keep this up.”

The door opened again. Two officers walked in and grabbed my arms, one on each side.

I did not resist.

The moment Curtis called the police, I already realized that this was not a misunderstanding. It was a setup. Since they dared to go this far, they must have already prepared the evidence.

Next, they would search my apartment—things that were never there to begin with. I would be permanently branded as a voyeur and a harasser. There would be no way to clear my name unless I tore this trap apart first.

…

The cold iron door slammed shut behind me with a heavy echo. I was locked in a temporary holding cell. The room was small. There was only a hard cot and a toilet. The air smelled of disinfectant mixed with stale dampness.

I traced the wall slowly, found the bed, and sat down, listening quietly to the sounds outside.

Footsteps echoed up and down the hallway, mixed with deliberately hushed whispers.

“That’s the sicko who was spying on people?”

“She looks normal. Didn’t expect something this disgusting.”

“I heard she’s blind. Probably faking it.”

“Who knows? Either way, she’s done for.”

Their voices were like fine needles, piercing into my ears one by one.

I had long been used to darkness. However, for the first time, it felt cold enough to cut.

About two hours later, the metal door opened again. It was Officer Wright. He was holding a transparent evidence bag. His steps were noticeably lighter. He waved it in front of me.

“Yvie, take a look at this.”

Then, as though remembering I could not see, he scoffed and answered his own question.

“We found this under your windowsill… A pair of military-grade binoculars!”

There was barely concealed triumph in his voice. “And this!”

Another evidence bag hit the table with a soft plastic rustle.

“A digital camera. It’s full of photos of Curtis, taken from every angle. Filthy stuff! So, is there anything you’d like to say now?”

I did not respond immediately. Deep down, a storm was already raging.

That was fast. The evidence was already perfectly in place in such a short time.

Officer Wright noticed my silence and assumed I had nothing left to say. He pulled over a chair and sat across from me, his tone suddenly shifting into something almost persuasive.

“Yvie, you’re still young. You’re not without options. Why go down this path? Now that the evidence is all here, denying it won’t help. If you confess early, I might be able to put in a good word for you and get you a lighter sentence.”

A statement was pushed in front of me. The sound of paper scraping against the table was sharp and clear.

“Go on. Press your fingerprint and this will all be over.”

I could tell from Officer Wright's tone that he was not taking this seriously. He did not care about the truth. He only cared about closing the case.

I slowly lifted my head and faced him. “Officer Wright, if I press my fingerprint, does that mean I’m admitting to all the charges?”

“Of course.”

“Including voyeurism, harassment, and distributing obscene images?”

“That’s right. Multiple charges combined, enough to put you away for a few years.”

I paused for a moment. My voice dropped slightly. “My name will be forever tied to voyeur and sexual harasser, won’t it?”

His impatience was obvious now. “What’s with all the questions? You did this to yourself!”

I laughed. The sound felt jarringly out of place in the cramped holding room. “Is that so?”

In the next second, I reached out, found the statement, and tore it apart. The sound of paper splitting was sharp in the air. Nothing was left but shreds.

Officer Wright froze for a moment. He clearly did not expect that.

“Y-You… Have you lost your mind?!” He shot to his feet. His voice rose sharply. “That’s resisting law enforcement! Your sentences just got worse!”

I lifted my head. My voice was steady and clear. “I won’t confess to something I didn’t do. You can fabricate the evidence.”

I paused for a moment. “But if you want me to admit guilt, I’d rather die.”

The air seemed to solidify. Officer Wright’s breathing turned rapid. “Fine… Fine… Fine!”

He spat the word three times. His voice shook with anger.

“You’ve got guts. I’ll see how long you can keep this up!” He stormed off and shouted into the hallway, “Someone get in here! Cuff her! File for formal detention! I want to see how long she lasts!

Within seconds, two officers rushed in. They yanked me off the bed roughly.

Cold handcuffs snapped around my wrists again. They were tighter than before, with the metal biting into my skin.

I was shoved forward, stumbling as I was led out.

Then, my phone rang. The flat, mechanical tone of a blind-access phone cut sharply through the hallway.

One of the officers moved to decline it.

I said, “Let me take it.”

My voice was calm, too calm for someone being dragged away.

The officer hesitated for a moment.

“Take what? Move!” Officer Wright barked impatiently.

I said evenly, “If this call delays the result you want, you’ll deal with the consequences.”

That made him pause. In the end, the phone was placed in my hand. I felt for the button and answered.

A cold, distant female voice came through. “Yvie, you have three days to move out.”

She paused for a moment, her tone laced with undisguised disgust. “I don’t want a disgusting peeping Tom living in my property.”

The voice on the other end belonged to my landlord, Ms. Holt. Her voice felt ice cold even though it came from the other end of the line.

“Ms. Holt, that’s not how it is.” I tried to explain.

“I don’t want to hear it!" she cut me off sharply.

“All I know is that you’ve been here one week, and you’ve already caused a scandal! The building’s group chat is blowing up! Everyone’s blaming me! How am I supposed to rent this place out in the future? What about my reputation?”

Her voice grew sharper and sharper, filled with anger at being dragged into the mess.