"Something’s wrong... she's trying to commit suicide!" the doctor shouted.

Zachary sat beside me, his grip tightening around my neck as he forced my mouth open.

Blood surged out, choking me as I gasped for air.

“So this is how far you’ll go to protect him?”

Zachary’s eyes were bloodshot, his teeth grinding in fury.

The doctor hurried over, attempting to tend to my wound, but the struggle had already sapped most of my strength. I could do nothing but lie there, helpless, completely at Zachary's mercy.

I managed to give Zachary a faint smile, and the effect was instant. His anger flared, and the crowd below started to stir, their voices filled with righteous fury.

“She’s too arrogant! How dare such scum still live!”

“Die, you bitch!”

The hall erupted in noise, but the giant screen flickered again, revealing a new scene.

It was during our high school days, sitting at desks and chairs that seemed like relics from a past era.

With my backpack over my shoulder, Zachary and I left the classroom and headed toward the middle school section.

After standing at the school gates for a while, we heard a cheerful voice calling out to us.

“Zach! Sis! I’m here!”

Zoey skipped toward us, her backpack bouncing as she caught my arm.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a lollipop.

“I knew you were the best, Sis!” Zoey beamed with joy, her eyes lighting up.

“Stop saying that,” I teased, my face turning red with embarrassment.

The crowd stirred at the sight.

Aunt Mary broke down completely, sobbing so hard she could barely speak.

“Zoey was such a good child! Why can’t you just tell us who hurt her?” she wailed. “Why couldn’t you let Zoey rest in peace? My poor child! You… you don’t deserve to live!”

Aunt Mary sobbed uncontrollably, her voice heavy with grief, while the people in the audience looked visibly moved.

Although their father, Uncle John, had seen many tragedies and usually kept his composure, witnessing his beloved wife break down like that caused him to falter.

He pulled his wife into his arms, whispering comforting words, but his eyes turned to me, filled with unmistakable hatred.

The memory on the screen continued.

After school, Zoey and I went to our secret spot—an abandoned park near the school with a small creek running through it.

We’d set up a tent there, a place almost no one knew about. We often went there to buy snacks, grill food, and have little picnics, away from the world.

Seeing this on the screen, the audience collectively gasped.

This was the very place where Zoey’s tragedy had occurred.

When the case was first opened to search for clues, this spot was mentioned, but unfortunately, no useful evidence was found.

The place had been abandoned for too long.

Zachary broke down in tears, unable to hold it together any longer.

“It’s all my fault," he cried out. "If I hadn’t taken Zoey to that place, everything would’ve been different.”

But then his gaze shifted to me.

“Zoey loved you so much! How could you be so heartless, Joanne? Is your heart made of stone?!”

He punched the bed railing with all his might, as if somehow doing so would release the anger burning inside him.

Tears from Zachary fell onto my hand.

I could feel their heat, their sting.

“I… I tried, Zach,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, exhausted.

“Tried? You call this trying? You’re shielding a murderer! You’re breaking the law! You’re helping him escape justice!” Zachary screamed, his emotions spiraling out of control.

I closed my eyes, and the memory of that sunny girl flooded back. Her smile was so warm, it seemed able to melt even the coldest glaciers.

“Mr. Mitchell...”

The doctor beside us tried to speak, but hesitated, unsure of what to say.

Zachary shot him a cold glance.

The doctor involuntarily shivered, his body tensing in fear.

“Say it," Zachary ordered.

“She’s… she’s resisting,” the doctor stammered. “She's avoiding that part of her memory deliberately.”

Zachary's lips curved into a cold, twisted smile.

“Good,” he said softly. “Very good.”

"Then increase the current," Zachary said coldly. "I want to see just how tough her bones really are."

The doctor hesitated for a moment, but then he obeyed Zachary’s command.

Electricity surged through my head and limbs, and slowly, I began to lose all sensation. It felt as if my body was shutting down.

I knew my time was running out.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay silent, not letting a single sound escape.

“Who the hell are you protecting?!” Zachary roared, his voice thick with rage.

I opened my eyes, tears clouding my vision.

Through him, I thought I saw that bright, sunny boy I once knew.

"I... I can't say," I whispered weakly.

Zachary’s face darkened, his eyes growing colder. He stood up, walking toward me, towering above.

"If you won’t speak, I have my ways. Zoey endured more pain than this. What you’re going through is nothing."

I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him, silently praying in my heart.

'Let this end quickly.'

The current intensified, and my body was on the edge of collapse.

Just as I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, a sharp adrenaline shot was thrust into my veins.

My numb body suddenly came to life.

The pain that followed felt like being crushed by a steamroller.

Cold sweat soaked through the sheets of the hospital bed.

Zachary stood there, cold and indifferent, watching as I suffered, his eyes fixated on finding the truth from years ago and seeking justice for Zoey.

"Joanne," he said, his tone flat, “you brought this on yourself. You’ve kept Zoey from resting all these years. This is what you owe her."

Finally, in the last second, the screen flickered and began to play again.

In the dimly lit underground room, I curled up in a corner, my body trembling.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open.

A group of men entered, and the last to walk in was Zachary.

“So you really won’t talk?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. “They’ve all got something wrong with them, one way or another. I’m giving you one last chance.”

I shook my head desperately, tears streaming down my face.

"No, no, it’s not like that. I really can’t say. Zach, you have to believe me. I have my reasons."

Zachary stepped forward, his fingers tightening around my chin.

"What reason could be more important than Zoey’s life? Tell me!" he demanded.

When I didn’t answer, his expression turned cold.

"Fine. Since you refuse to speak, I’ll let them... take care of you."

Zachary turned and left, leaving me with the group of disgusting men.

No matter how much I cried or screamed, he didn’t look back.

They tore at my clothes. Their foul breath and drool stuck to my skin. My wrists were tied, and there was no fighting back, no escape.

Since our marriage, Zachary had never physically touched me. Instead, he had allowed these vile men he invited into our home to do so.

He hired people to watch over me, terrified I might try to end my life. He wanted me to slowly perish from the torment.

The audience below was divided.

One side cursed me, saying I deserved this, while the other condemned Zachary’s actions as a violation of the law.

The room was filled with chaotic uproar.

Zachary only sneered. "So you still care about your purity now? Did you ever think about how desperate Zoey was back then? Did you ever care about her dignity?! If you had spoken up earlier, would Zoey have killed herself?!"

I bit my lip, holding back the pain that threatened to escape, my heart consumed by despair.

“I… I can’t tell you,” I said again, my voice trembling but firm.

A faint, twisted smile tugged at Zachary’s lips, as if my suffering brought him some dark pleasure.

“You’re still such a fool,” he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. “Do you really think staying silent will save you now?”

Zachary then signaled to the doctor.

The current surged once more. My body convulsed violently from the pain, but I still didn’t break.

"You... you can’t do this to me. You’ll regret it," I managed to croak, the words barely escaping my lips.

"You should be the one regretting," Zachary said.

He then turned and strode toward the control console.

"Increase the power to the maximum, no matter the consequences."

"Mr. Mitchell, she... she could die at this intensity if we continue..."

"Didn't you hear me?!" Zachary’s shout rang through the room, instantly silencing everyone.

A man who became the wealthiest person in Springfield at such a young age had an intimidating presence—one that no one could overlook.

The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, reluctantly adjusting the power to its highest setting.

The giant screen didn’t stop for the interruption; the footage kept playing, complex and jagged, until it froze on a new scene.

In the image, I was walking through the grass in the same abandoned park.

My voice echoed softly, muttering to myself.

It looked like it was just before dusk.

"Strange... I remember walking down this path, but why can't I find it?"

The girl in the scene looked downward, as if she were searching for something on the ground.

Suddenly, a rustling sound beside her made her look up in a flash. In that brief instant, a young man appeared in the frame—his long hair flowing, clad in a black leather jacket.