Chapter 4: The Plan and the Escape

Officer Turner screwed the lid back on his Yeti, the sound sharp in the stillness. He set it down with a heavy thunk and leaned forward, his face invisible but his presence overwhelming.

"You described every detail so thoroughly, as if you’ve explained everything clearly. You almost managed to create the image of an honest, timid person." His fingers drummed a slow, ominous beat on the table, like a countdown.

"But did you forget that you were someone they bullied for a long time? You just went home when you wanted? Weren’t you afraid they’d bully you even worse the next day? Unless you knew they’d die that day, so you dared to go home."

I panicked, shaking my head, my heart racing. "No! That’s not it!"

"Then what is it? Just to help grandma pack up the stand, you weren’t afraid they’d shove your head in the toilet again, or beat you until you went blind or broke bones?" His voice was low, but his words hit harder than any slap.

I picked at my fingers, my nails digging little crescents into my palms. My whole body trembled, and I had to force the words out, each one scraping my throat raw:

"But, if I didn’t leave, I’d die!"

That day, they thought I couldn’t hear, but I overheard them whispering. After making the non-Newtonian fluid, they wanted to push me in and see whether, when someone is suffocating, they’d struggle wildly or try to control themselves and slowly escape.

Tyler even asked, "What if we kill someone?"

Benji said, "If he dies, we can see whether a body floats or sinks in non-Newtonian fluid."

Rachel added, "Anyway, we’re not fourteen yet, nothing will happen."

As I remembered their voices, my stomach twisted. When I heard all this, cold sweat broke out on my back. I wasn’t especially afraid of dying, but I was terrified that if I died, my elderly grandma and my mom, who was over nine months pregnant, would be so devastated something would happen to them. If I was gone, who’d help Grandma with the stand? Who’d keep Mom from falling apart? The thought made me colder than the grave. Then our family would truly be destroyed.

So I kept looking for a chance to escape, and being told to get the plastic sheet gave me that chance.

At first I hesitated, afraid of their revenge the next day, but grandma’s phone call made me determined to go home.

Surviving today—tomorrow couldn’t be worse than dying today.

I told everything.

But Officer Turner seemed not to believe me. He said, "What you said is reasonable, but there’s no evidence..."

My heart went cold, and I smiled bitterly: "When I said they bullied me, you said I had no evidence... So, do you have evidence that I killed them?"

Officer Turner said sternly, "You were bullied for a long time, you have a motive for murder. You’re a good student, you should know that cornstarch dust explodes in the presence of open flame, and you have no alibi."

My anger flared, my voice rising: "I did want to kill them! Then I wouldn’t have to be bullied anymore! But I couldn’t do it! I’m not like them, numb to life and death. Facing blood and death, I feel like a mountain’s pressing down on me! I just can’t do it!"

But even in the face of my anger, Officer Turner remained calm: "So, do you have an alibi?"

Hearing his harsh question, I buried my head in my arms on the table, grabbing my hair with both hands. The harsh light of the interrogation room seemed to bore through my skull.

But the corners of my mouth quietly lifted into a slight smile. Because for once, things were out of their control.

At that moment, Officer Grant knocked and entered, saying, "There’s some new evidence..."