Chapter 3

On the third day, things completely spiraled out of control.

When I woke up in the morning and opened my phone, the third trending topic on Ins was: #GradSchoolGuyLuresLittleGirl.

When I clicked in, that article had already been reposted three hundred thousand times, and its views had exceeded twenty million.

Someone started a topic in the comments section: #ExposeThisPervert.

Below it, someone posted a photo of my ID, screenshots from my student records, and even a group photo from a school event I attended in junior year.

Under the official Ins account of my university, thousands of comments demanded that they “investigate this person thoroughly.”

Someone tagged the dean of my college, and someone tagged the Department of Education.

My phone number had been leaked, and my text inbox was overflowing.

When I opened it, it was all abuse.

“Animal, go die.”

“How did your mother raise a thing like you?”

“Hope you fail your grad school exam and never get in for the rest of your life.”

I saved a screenshot of every single one.

Ryan sent a message: “Dude, you’re trending.”

“Our alumni group has exploded, and someone is organizing a joint letter to the school asking them to expel you.”

“Let them write.”

“You really don’t care?”

“I care.”

“But the way I care isn’t by arguing with them.”

“What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Sue.”

“How much will that cost?”

“If it needs to be spent, I’ll spend it.”

Ryan sent me his cousin’s SnapChat.

I added him as a friend, and the other person was named Nathan Price, in his early thirties, and he spoke briskly.

“Ethan, Ryan told me about your situation.”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you answer truthfully.”

“Ask.”

“Did you touch that little girl?”

“No.”

“Did you hand her the cake on your own initiative?”

“Yes.”

“She was squatting at my door, looking at the cake in my hand.”

“I cut a small piece and gave it to her, and she took it and ran.”

“The door was open?”

“It was open the whole time.”

“The lock on my rental apartment has a problem, and if it isn’t fully shut, it pops open automatically.”

“Before I went inside, I pushed it and confirmed that the door was open.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

“No.”

Nathan was silent for a while.

“No surveillance footage, no witnesses, and the other party is an autistic child.”

“This case won’t be easy.”

“I know.”

“But if I don’t fight it, my whole life is over.”

“Fine.”

“Then I’ll explain the process to you.”

“First, we need to preserve the evidence and have all online posts and comments notarized.”

“Then I’ll obtain her identity information and draft the complaint.”

“After the court accepts the case, there will be a hearing.”

“The whole process will take two or three months if it’s fast, and half a year if it’s slow.”

“I can wait.”

“Good.”

“Send me all the evidence first, and I’ll help you organize it.”

“Also, you need to go to a notary office for the notarization, and make sure you save the links to those posts.”

After hanging up, I went out to the notary office.

When I went downstairs, a middle-aged man in the elevator saw me and moved one step into the corner.

When we reached the first floor, he rushed out first.

Several people were gathered at the entrance of the complex, and when they saw me, they whispered among themselves.

I lowered my head and walked past, and a voice came from behind me: “Shameless.”

I did not look back.

At the notary office, the staff member was a young woman, and after looking at my materials, she looked up at me.

“You’re that guy online?”

“Yes.”

She did not say anything else and lowered her head to process the paperwork.

The whole process was very quiet, with only the sound of typing on the keyboard.

After finishing the notarization, I returned to the rental apartment.

When I reached the entrance of the building, I saw Daisy squatting on the steps, playing with stones by herself.

When she saw me, she raised her head, and her eyes lit up.

I stopped for one second, said nothing, and went straight upstairs.

It was not that I did not want to respond to her, but that I did not dare to.

Any contact could be magnified into new evidence.

After returning to my room, my phone rang.

It was Nathan.

“Ethan, I checked Carla’s information.”

“She and her ex-husband have been divorced for two years, and Daisy’s custody is with her.”

“There are records showing that community services once got involved because Daisy had been locked outside multiple times.”

“A neighbor called the police.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“There’s a police dispatch record?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve asked someone to retrieve it.”

“Great.”

“Can this prove that she’s emotionally unstable and has a motive to frame me?”

“It can.”

“But it still isn’t enough.”

“We need more evidence, preferably something that can directly prove your innocence.”

“Like what?”

“Like Daisy’s own words.”

“Even though she has autism, if she can express the meaning of ‘that man did not touch me,’ it can be used as supporting evidence.”

“Her father said he could help me ask, but the court may not accept Daisy’s words.”

“Whether they accept it is one thing, but whether we have it is another.”

“Ask her father to ask her first and record the audio for me.”

I sent Daisy’s father a message.

He quickly replied: “I asked.”

“Daisy said, ‘Ethan gave cake, then I left.’”

“That’s all.”

“That’s enough.”

“Can you send a recording?”

After a while, an audio recording came through.

The voice was very soft, and the little girl’s voice came in broken pieces: “Ethan... cake... I left.”

I forwarded the recording to Nathan.

After Nathan listened to it, he was silent for a while.

“This can be used.”

“Although it’s not direct evidence, at least it can prove she wasn’t harmed.”

“That’s good.”

After hanging up, I opened my laptop and continued organizing evidence.

Today, there were more than two hundred new abusive records, and I saved them all into the folder.

The folder now contained more than a thousand records.

Looking at the number on the screen, I suddenly felt very calm.

The harsher they cursed, the stronger my evidence became.

For these three days, I had not read a single page.

There were still four months left before the grad school entrance exam, and I had fallen three days behind.

But I did not regret it.

If I did not resolve this now, even if I got into grad school, this stain would follow me for the rest of my life.

I picked up a pen and circled a date on the calendar.

Today was day one.

I would get back every last bit of this, exactly as it happened.