Over winter break, an "@ everyone" tag from my desk mate's father suddenly popped up in the class group chat. He said his daughter had gone out to hang out with me and was now unreachable, demanding I reply immediately. He also threatened that if anything happened to his daughter, he wouldn't let me off the hook. A chill ran down my spine. She hadn't come to see me at all. I had been home studying all day, hadn't even stepped out the door. I typed an explanation, saying she wasn't with me. The group fell dead silent. He didn't reply again. I thought the matter was over. Until midnight, when he pried open my front door and barged in holding a knife. Our family of four—none of us escaped. Right before I died, he choked me and roared, blaming me for inviting his daughter out, claiming it was my fault she got tricked into running away with some delinquent. As I took my last breath, all I remembered were his bloodshot eyes. I opened my eyes, and my phone buzzed again. That same "@ everyone" tag in the group chat, identical word for word... 1 "This is Lily Evans's parent, tagging everyone in the group. Lily has run away from home several times, and this time she's been gone for two days. Whichever parent is harboring her, bear the consequences. She said she's at Chloe Miller's house." My phone buzzed. Staring at this message, a cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. Lily Evans. Her father. That middle-aged man who barged into my house with a knife and murdered my entire family of four. That animal who choked me and, right before I died, gritted his teeth and said, "It's all your fault for inviting her out." I instinctively touched my own neck. No pain. No wound. Breathing smoothly. But I remembered that suffocating feeling, remembered his bloodshot eyes, remembered the sound of my mom falling onto the living room floor, remembered my dad's back as he was hacked down trying to protect Leo, remembered my little brother Leo was only nine and didn't even have time to cry out loud— I remembered. I remembered it all. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night all made up, dressed like a prostitute, and secretly taking a cab. Whoever lent her money, whoever invited her out, bear the consequences!" He sent another message. The group was dead silent. No one dared to speak. Last time, when I saw these two messages, I panicked and typed an explanation, saying Lily never came to see me, that I had been home studying all day and hadn't even stepped out. He didn't reply again. I thought the matter was over. Then, at midnight, he pried open my front door. I slowly put my phone down. It is now 5:23 PM. There are about seven hours until he pries the door open. Last time, I spent these seven hours in panic and feeling wronged. When my parents got home from work, I even complained to them about it, saying Lily's dad was so mean. My mom even comforted me, saying it was normal for a parent to be anxious when their daughter was missing. Our family of four, none of us knew death was approaching. This time. I looked at that profile picture, that WeChat account saved as "Lily Evans's Dad." Mr. Evans. Do you know what the first thing I want to do after being reborn is? I don't want to run. I don't want to call the police—last time, during the final ten minutes when he was breaking in, I dialed 911. The line was busy. By the time it connected, he had already kicked the door open. I want you to know what it means to bear the consequences. 5:25 PM. I replied in the group. "Hello Mr. Evans, I just saw the messages. Lily didn't come to see me today, and I didn't invite her out. We haven't really talked much at school lately. You could ask her other friends." Pausing for two seconds, I typed another sentence: "But please don't worry, she might have gone to another classmate's house. I'll help you ask around to see if anyone has seen her." People started popping up in the group. "Lily ran away from home again? Oh my god, is she okay?" "Don't worry Mr. Evans, we'll help look for her." "Chloe, were you home all afternoon? Didn't go out?" That last message was from my desk mate, Mia. I didn't reply to her. Because I saw Lily's dad's reply. "You didn't invite her? She said you invited her out! You'd better tell the truth, or else when I find out, don't blame me for not holding back!" 2 Heh. Here it comes. Last time, I was also terrified by this sentence, explaining desperately, my tone getting softer and my posture getting lower. But did it help? No. What he was looking for was never the truth; it was a scapegoat. Who was Lily Evans? The "problem girl" of our class. Dyed hair, makeup, skipping classes, dating some delinquent from outside the school. How many times had her dad beaten her? I don't know. I only know that once she came to school with a handprint on her face, claiming she fell. This wasn't her first time running away from home. But this time was different. This time, she eloped with that delinquent. She didn't dare tell her dad the truth, so she casually threw out a line: "I went to Chloe Miller's house." Just that one sentence. Her dad believed it. Or rather, he pretended to believe it. Because he needed a target. He needed someone to bear the anger of his failed parenting. He needed someone to let him vent his impotent rage of "my daughter's trouble is all someone else's fault." And me—good grades, well-behaved, never causing trouble, casually framed by his daughter—I was perfect. Last time, he killed me. This time, I'm going to let him know what it feels like to kick an iron plate. 5:32 PM. I sent a screenshot to the group. It was my WeChat chat history with Lily Evans. Our last chat was two weeks ago. She asked me what the weekend homework was, I replied, and she didn't say anything else. Scrolling further up, it was borrowing notes, asking about exam times, borrowing a charger. Not a single personal chat, not a single invitation to hang out. "Mr. Evans, this is my chat history with Lily, please take a look. We really aren't close." People in the group started speaking up for me. "It's true, Lily and Chloe aren't in the same circle." "Yeah, Chloe studies all day, she wouldn't hang out with Lily." "Sir, did you perhaps misunderstand?" Lily's dad didn't reply. But I knew he saw it. Because five minutes later, he sent a third message: "Chat histories can be deleted. Who knows if you deleted them beforehand? My daughter personally said she's at your house, would she lie?" I smiled. Yes, she would lie. And you know better than anyone that she would lie. But you refuse to admit it. 5:40 PM. I sent a message to Lily. "Lily, where are you? Your dad is looking for you in the group, saying you're at my house. Don't scare me, what happened?" After sending it, I put my phone aside and started scrolling through my contacts. I remembered last time, Lily and that delinquent eloped to a neighboring city, stayed in a motel for a week, and only came back after they ran out of money. When she came back, my whole family had already been cremated. This time, I need to make her come back sooner. Not to save her. But to make her say with her own mouth: I didn't go to Chloe Miller's house. 6:00 PM exactly. My mom got home from work. "Chloe, what's going on in the group chat? Why is Lily's dad posting all that?" she asked while taking off her shoes. "You didn't get into any trouble, did you?" "No," I said. "Mom, don't get nervous when I tell you this, but we need to stay somewhere else tonight." My mom froze for a moment. "Why?" I looked at her. Not even forty, she already had white hair at her temples. Last time, she fell on the living room floor, still clutching the new pencil case she had just bought for me. "Because Lily's dad might come looking for trouble," I said. "He's not a reasonable person." My mom laughed: "It wouldn't go that far, right? Just for this? He's anxious because his daughter is missing, don't take it to heart. Once they find her, it'll be fine." "Mom." I looked at her, emphasizing every word. "Do you trust me?" "Of course I trust you." "Then listen to me tonight. We're going to stay at Grandma's house for the night." My mom hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, let's talk about it when your dad gets back." 3 6:30 PM. My dad came back with Leo. As soon as he walked in, Leo complained he was hungry. My mom went into the kitchen to cook. My dad sat on the sofa looking at his phone. After a while, he frowned. "Chloe, what's the deal with Lily's dad? Why is he talking so aggressively?" "That's just the kind of person he is," I said. "Dad, let's go stay at Grandma's house tonight." "Why?" I explained the whole situation. After my dad listened, he stayed silent for a while, then said, "Alright, we'll leave after dinner." I was a bit surprised. My dad had always been the "better to avoid trouble" type. I thought he was going to tell me not to overthink it. "Dad, you don't think I'm making a mountain out of a molehill?" "No." My dad put his phone down and looked at me. "I saw what he said in the group. That kind of person doesn't seem like he'll just let things go." He paused, then added, "We don't cause trouble, but we aren't afraid of it either. We'll hide out for a night, and once he finds his daughter, it'll blow over." I didn't say anything. Because I knew he wouldn't find her. At least, not tonight. 7:20 PM. Our family of four finished dinner, packed our things, and prepared to leave. Just then, a loud banging sounded on the door. Not knocking. Banging. Like someone smashing it with their fists. "Chloe Miller! Come out! I know my daughter is in your house!" It was Lily's dad's voice. My mom jumped, instinctively taking a step back. My dad's expression changed, and he pushed my mom and Leo back. "Don't open the door," he said in a low voice. The banging got louder. "Open the door! I'm calling the police! This is false imprisonment!" Leo was so scared he buried his face in my chest. Holding him, I felt my heart beating so fast it was about to jump out of my throat. Last time, he didn't come this early. Last time, he came at midnight, with a knife. This time, he came just past seven. He didn't bring a knife. At least, not right now. But he still came. "Dad," I whispered. "Call the police." My dad nodded and picked up his phone. The smashing outside continued. "Chloe Miller! Don't think you're safe hiding in there! If anything happens to my daughter, I'll make your whole family pay with your lives!" A neighbor opened their door. "What are you doing? It's late, what's all the noise about?" "None of your damn business! Someone hid my daughter, I'm looking for my daughter!" My dad dialed 911. "Hello, someone is causing trouble at my door..." Before he could finish, a kick landed on the door. The doorframe shuddered. My mom screamed. Leo started crying. I held him tight, staring at that door. Last time, when this door was kicked open, I stood in the middle of the living room, trembling all over, unable to even speak. This time, I was waiting for the police. Bang! Another kick. The doorframe cracked. Bang! A third kick. The door opened. Not kicked open. Opened by my dad. He pulled the door open. A man stood outside. In his forties, short and stout, his face flushed red, his eyes glaring like he wanted to eat someone. Exactly the same as those eyes I saw right before I died last time. "Mr. Evans." My dad stood in the doorway, blocking the path. "Why are you kicking my door?" "Your daughter hid my daughter!" He tried to push his way in. "Let me go in and search!" "Search for what?" My dad didn't budge. "My daughter said your daughter hasn't been here. Call the police, let them search." "Call the police? Why would I call the police? My daughter is right here in your house!" He charged forward, but my dad blocked him. The two of them started shoving each other. "Get out of the way!" "Calm down!" The hallway was crowded with nosy neighbors. Some were taking videos, some were on the phone, some were shouting "Stop fighting, stop fighting!" 4 Amidst the chaos, I saw someone push their way through. It was our homeroom teacher, Ms. Lee. "What are you doing?!" She pulled Lily's dad away. "Mr. Evans! What are you doing!" Lily's dad was yanked away, still struggling: "I'm looking for my daughter! My daughter is in her house!" "Who said that?" "My daughter said it herself! She said she's at Chloe Miller's house!" Ms. Lee looked at me. I stood in the doorway, holding Leo, tears welling up in my eyes. "Ms. Lee," my voice trembled. "Lily never came to my house. I don't know her well. Her dad cursed at me in the group chat, I posted all our chat history, but he didn't believe me, and now he's here kicking our door." "You're lying!" "Enough!" Ms. Lee roared. "Mr. Evans, your daughter ran away from home, I understand you're anxious. But what right do you have to come make a scene at someone else's house? Kicking their door? Do you know this is illegal!" "What law did I break? I'm looking for my daughter..." "Looking for your daughter gives you the right to kick doors? To frame people?" Ms. Lee pulled out her phone. "Wait here, I'm calling Lily." Lily's dad sneered: "I already called. Her phone is off." Ms. Lee ignored him and dialed the number. The call connected. "Hello, Lily? Where are you?" Everyone fell silent. Lily's dad was stunned. Ms. Lee put it on speakerphone. From the other end came Lily's voice, carrying a hint of impatience: "Ms. Lee, what is it?" "Where are you?" "I... I'm at a classmate's house." "Which classmate?" Silence. "Tell me." "...Chloe Miller's house." My brain buzzed. She was still lying. In front of all these people, she was still lying. Lily's dad instantly blew up: "Hear that?! Hear that?! My daughter said she's at her house!" He pushed Ms. Lee aside and charged towards me. My dad grabbed him tightly. "Calm down! Even if she says she's at Chloe's house, have her send her location!" "Send what location! I believe my daughter!" "You believe your daughter? Then come and search!" I spoke up. Everyone looked at me. I put Leo down, let my mom hold him, and then walked to the doorway. "You come in and search." I looked at Lily's dad. "What if you don't find her?" He froze for a second. "If you don't find her, you replace our front door with a new one. You apologize to me. You clarify in the group chat that your daughter lied, and that I am innocent." "Why should I—" "Why should you?" I cut him off. "Because you kicked my door. Because you slandered me in the group. Because you brought all these people here to make a spectacle of me." I stared into his eyes. "Do you dare?" The hallway was dead silent. The neighbors were all watching. Someone was recording. Lily's dad's face turned beet red. "Get out of the way, I'll search!" "First say what happens if you don't find her." "I..." Ms. Lee spoke up: "Mr. Evans, if you have nothing to hide, agree to her terms. If you don't find her, replace the door and apologize. If you do find her, we'll help you call the police and have them arrested." Lily's dad gritted his teeth, forcing a sentence through the gaps: "Fine." I stepped aside. He charged into my house, searching every room like a mad dog. Kitchen, bathroom, balcony, closets, under the beds. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
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