I was kidnapped at five years old. For the next eleven years, I was beaten and abused in the trafficker's house. On the day I was rescued at sixteen, the police pushed the trafficker in front of me. "Don't be afraid, child. He can never hurt you again!" I didn't look at the trafficker. I slowly turned my head, staring at the kind-looking young auxiliary officer standing beside him. "Hello again... brother." The officer froze. "Little girl, I think you've got the wrong person?" "That day, you were standing right next to the trafficker. You said you'd take me to find my mom." **01** I was kidnapped at five years old. In that moldy, dark room, I was beaten and abused for eleven long years. At sixteen, I was rescued. The fluorescent lights were harsh and white, making every face in the police station look blurred. A middle-aged officer crouched in front of me, his voice gentle. "Don't be afraid, child." He pointed to the man curled up in the corner—the man who had raised me for eleven years and beaten me for eleven years, the human trafficker. "Identify him. He can never hurt you again!" My gaze drifted past the trafficker's sallow face without stopping. I slowly turned my head. My eyes landed on a young officer. He wore a crisp uniform and had handsome features. He was carefully bringing me a cup of hot milk. His face radiated the kind of warmth that could melt ice and snow. "Hello again... brother," I said, my voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping against itself. The young officer froze for a moment, then gave me a reassuring smile. "Little girl, I think you've mistaken me for someone else. My name is Ethan Harper. We're meeting for the first time today." The entire police station fell deathly silent. The air solidified. Even the distant sound of the printer disappeared. I stared into his eyes, speaking each word deliberately. "I haven't mistaken you." "Eleven years ago, at the children's park on the west side of town, it was you." "You lifted me down from the slide. The trafficker was standing right next to you." "You even patted my head and said, 'Come with me, I'll take you to find your mom.'" The smile on Ethan's face froze. The milk cup in his hand crashed to the polished tile floor with a clang. The milky white liquid splashed out like a shattered flower. He suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, his grip frighteningly strong. "What are you talking about—" He didn't finish his sentence. His next movement made every officer outside the interrogation room point their guns directly at him. His other hand—the one not gripping me—shot up like lightning. He wasn't trying to hit me or push me away. He was trying to cover my mouth. It was a pure, instinctive movement to silence me. Just like the trafficker had done countless times over the past eleven years. The cold sound of metal echoed through the room. "Don't move!" "Ethan! Put your hands up!" An elderly but authoritative voice rang out. It was their captain, Captain Harris. Ethan's hand froze in midair, just inches from my lips. His pupils constricted violently. Cold sweat slid down his temple, dripping onto the insignia on his police uniform. He looked at me, his eyes no longer kind but filled with the shock and malice of prey that had bitten back. At that tense moment, the interrogation room door was violently pushed open. A middle-aged couple in expensive clothes rushed in, followed by several officers trying to stop them. The woman saw me, tears instantly flooding her eyes as she rushed over to embrace me. "Anna! My Anna! Mom has finally found you!" The man's eyes were also red. He excitedly grabbed Captain Harris's hand, speaking incoherently. "Thank you, thank you all! Especially Officer Harper. We heard about it—he was the first one to find the lead and save our daughter!" I was held tightly by Mom. I could smell her expensive perfume. But my gaze pierced through her shoulder, still locked firmly on Ethan. My real parents had arrived. And they were thanking the demon who had personally delivered me to hell eleven years ago. Ethan slowly lowered his hand. Under everyone's gaze, he raised both hands slowly above his head. The shock on his face had faded, replaced by a deep sense of grievance and sorrow. He looked at my parents, his voice trembling. "Sir, ma'am, I didn't..." "I don't know why this child would say such things." "I really... I was just trying to save her." My parents froze, looking at him, then at me. Mom released me, cupping my face, her brow furrowed. "Anna, did you... remember wrong?" "Officer Harper is your savior." I looked at her worried and confused face and shook my head. Memories can blur and get confused. But some things are carved into your bones. Like how eleven years ago that afternoon, when he handed me that candy, his right hand had a shallow, crescent-shaped scar at the base of his thumb. **02** I was taken to a separate rest room. Mom stayed with me. Dad, Captain Harris, and the station leadership were outside dealing with the chaos. The door was closed, but I could hear the muffled sounds of argument outside. Mom kept wiping my face and making me drink water. Her hands were warm, but her eyes were unfamiliar. "Anna, don't be afraid. It's all over now." "You'll be home soon. Mom and Dad will never let you suffer again." She chattered on about our future home, my room, the dresses she'd bought for me. I didn't say a word. After a long time, the door opened. Dad and Captain Harris walked in together. Dad's expression was grim, his brow furrowed into a deep line. Captain Harris looked serious. He pulled up a chair and sat across from me. "Child, can we talk again?" I nodded. "You said that eleven years ago, at the children's park, Ethan Harper took you away?" "Yes." "Are you certain?" "I'm certain." Captain Harris was silent for a moment, then pulled out a photo from his pocket. It was Ethan's ID photo—sunny, upright. "He's twenty-seven years old now. Eleven years ago, he was sixteen, still a high school student." "According to records, he was an excellent student who even won the city's Outstanding Student award. Why would he do something like this?" I looked at that photo and shook my head. "I don't know why he would." "I only know it was him." Dad finally couldn't hold back anymore, his voice filled with suppressed fury. "Anna! How can you be so sure!" "Officer Harper found you to save you! He's our family's great benefactor! How can you bite the hand that feeds you?" "Did you stay with that trafficker so long that your mind... that something went wrong?" His words were like a needle, piercing my heart. It didn't hurt. It was just very cold. I looked at him, this biological father of mine. His eyes held no trust, only suspicion and the irritation of someone eager to distance himself from trouble. "Nothing's wrong with me," I said. Captain Harris raised his hand, signaling Dad to stop talking. He continued, "Besides what you've told us, is there any other evidence? Or more specific details?" "Yes." I closed my eyes. That afternoon eleven years ago replayed in my mind like a movie. "He was wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt with a black and white Mickey Mouse print on the chest." "He gave me a candy. It was a White Rabbit candy." "After he handed me over to that man, the man gave him a roll of money wrapped in newspaper." "He also said something." Captain Harris's eyes immediately sharpened. "What did he say?" "He said, 'My sister is sick and I need money urgently. Don't contact me again.'" After I finished speaking, the rest room fell into dead silence. Dad's expression changed from anger to shock. Captain Harris stared at me for a full half minute, then stood up. "Rest here. We'll verify this." He and Dad walked out together. The moment the door closed, I heard Dad's urgent voice. "Captain Harris, this... you can't believe what this child says! She must be..." The voice grew more distant. Mom sighed and sat back down beside me. "Anna, Mom knows you've been wronged." "But Officer Harper... he doesn't seem like a bad person. And all these years he's been excellent, with a spotless record." "Could it be that you want to catch the bad guy so badly that you're projecting your resentment onto him?" I didn't answer. I just felt very tired. More tired than being beaten and working every day at the trafficker's house. That night, my parents took me back to the "home" they had prepared for me. A huge, empty mansion. My room was pink, with a soft large bed and piles of beautiful dresses. Like a perfect princess room. But lying in that bed, I couldn't sleep all night. The next day at noon, the doorbell rang. Mom excitedly ran to answer it. Ethan stood at the door carrying bags of nutritional supplements and fruit. He had changed out of his uniform and wore casual clothes, looking more like the boy next door. His face showed some exhaustion, but his smile remained warm. "Sir, ma'am, I came to see Anna." My parents warmly welcomed him in, serving tea and fruit, their mouths full of gratitude and apologies. "Officer Harper, we're so sorry. Our child doesn't understand..." "Sir, please don't say that." Ethan interrupted Dad. "Anna has suffered so much. It's completely normal for her to have some stress reactions. I don't blame her at all." The more magnanimous he appeared, the more guilty my parents felt. They called me out of my room. In the living room, Ethan sat on the sofa with my parents on either side of him. That picture looked like a family. I was the outsider. Ethan saw me and stood up, giving me a warm smile. "Anna, feeling better?" I didn't respond. Mom pushed me, lowering her voice. "Anna, call him Ethan. Apologize to him." I stood without moving. The atmosphere in the living room instantly became awkward. Ethan waved his hand at Mom. "Ma'am, it's fine. Don't force the child." He turned to look at me, his gaze "sincere" enough to be chilling. "Anna, I know you hate the trafficker. But you've identified the wrong person. The real bad guy will get away with it." "Think about it carefully again, okay?" I watched his performance and suddenly found it laughable. Dad's expression had already darkened. "Anna Williams! I'm ordering you—right now, immediately—apologize to Officer Harper!" Anna Williams. That was my name. A name I'd heard for eleven years but found utterly foreign. Just then, Ethan suddenly walked up to me. He bent down, leaned close to my ear, and said something in a voice only the two of us could hear. "Keep making trouble and you'll never see your real 'mom' again." My body instantly went rigid. The "mom" he mentioned wasn't referring to the woman in front of me. He meant the woman who had been trafficked to the same house, the only one who had shown me warmth, who they had beaten to death—"Crazy Mom." This was our darkest secret. And he knew about it. **03** My blood nearly froze in that moment. "Crazy Mom" was a woman the trafficker had bought from elsewhere. Because she kept trying to escape, they beat her until she lost her mind. She was my only comfort in childhood. She would secretly save food for me and would throw herself over me when I was being beaten. Three years ago, she was beaten to death for taking a beating meant for me. No one should know about this except me, the trafficker, and a few of the trafficker's accomplices who were present at the time. Ethan... How could he know? I jerked my head up, staring at him intently. His face still wore that harmless, warm smile, but deep in his eyes was an icy mockery that saw through everything. He silently mouthed two words to me. "Shut up." My parents didn't notice this brief, silent confrontation. They only saw my face turn deathly pale, my body swaying unsteadily. "Anna, what's wrong?" Mom supported me, looking worried. Ethan straightened up, showing just the right amount of concern. "Is Anna not feeling well? Maybe I should leave so I don't upset her." "Officer Harper, please don't say that!" Dad panicked. He grabbed me and pulled me in front of Ethan. "Apologize! I'm telling you to apologize!" I looked at my father's angry, unfamiliar face, then at Ethan's hypocritical mask. A huge wave of desolation and nausea surged through me. I didn't apologize. I just looked at Ethan, clearly and deliberately speaking each word. "You weren't alone." "Eleven years ago, there was someone else with you." Dad was so angry he raised his hand. "How dare you keep spouting nonsense!" The slap never landed. Ethan reached out and stopped Dad. "Sir, don't." He sighed, like a saint who had endured endless grievances yet remained infinitely tolerant. "The child's emotions are unstable. Let her take her time." "I believe she'll eventually remember the truth." When he said the word "truth," he emphasized it, his gaze scraping across my face like a knife. He stayed for half an hour before leaving. As soon as he left, Dad's rage erupted completely. He pointed at my nose and cursed me for being ungrateful, for biting the hand that fed me, for being a wolf in sheep's clothing. Mom cried and tried to mediate, saying I had just come home and they couldn't pressure me like this. The entire mansion was filled with arguments, crying, and cursing. I felt like I'd fallen into a more luxurious but colder cage. That night, I locked myself in my room. I took out paper and pen and began to write. I wrote down every detail I could remember about eleven years ago. Ethan's appearance and his knowledge of "Crazy Mom" confirmed something for me. What happened back then was far more complex than I'd imagined. He wasn't just a teenager who impulsively committed a crime for money. There were others behind him. Or rather, there was a network. The next day, I found an excuse to go out, shaking off the nanny who tried to follow me. I went to the police station. Captain Harris wasn't there. I waited at the entrance. He returned in the evening, looking exhausted. Seeing me, he seemed a bit surprised. "Why are you here?" "I came to find you." We went to a small noodle shop nearby. I handed him what I'd written all night. "This is everything I can remember." Captain Harris took it and read each page very carefully. The noodle shop was noisy and steaming hot, but I felt cold all over. This was my only bargaining chip. If he didn't believe me either... Captain Harris finished reading the last page and remained silent for a long time. He looked up at me. "What you said about Ethan Harper's appearance when he was sixteen—we checked. His high school photos do match your description." My heart lifted. "But," his tone shifted, "he has an alibi." "Eleven years ago, the day you were kidnapped was a Saturday. His school was holding an anniversary celebration that day. He was the host. Hundreds of teachers and students can vouch for him." My brain buzzed. An alibi? How was that possible? I remembered so clearly! "That's impossible!" I cried out. "I couldn't have remembered wrong!" "Child, don't get worked up." Captain Harris's voice was steady. "Memory can deceive you. Especially after experiencing such great trauma, you might mix up different people and events." "I didn't mix them up!" I gripped the edge of the table. Captain Harris sighed. "We've investigated Ethan Harper's family background and social connections. Everything's clean. His father is a university professor, his mother is a doctor. He's been the model child since childhood. There's no reason for him to do something like this." "All the evidence is in his favor." "And what works against you is that everyone thinks you've lost your mind." His words were cruel but honest. I looked at him and suddenly asked a question. "What about you?" "Captain Harris, do you think I've lost my mind too?" Captain Harris looked into my eyes but didn't answer immediately. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, but didn't light it. He just held it, slowly rotating it in his fingers. After a long while, he finally spoke. "Your details are too specific." "So specific... they don't seem made up." "Especially what you mentioned about the crescent-shaped scar at the base of his right thumb." My heart leaped. "We managed to obtain his medical exam report from this year." Captain Harris looked at me, his gaze profound. "There is indeed a scar at the base of his right thumb." "Very faint. You wouldn't notice it without looking carefully." "The shape is exactly as you described." A huge surge of wild joy and bitterness instantly overwhelmed me. I bit my lip hard to keep myself from crying. Finally. Finally, someone was willing to believe me, even just a little. "So," I asked in a trembling voice, "you'll continue investigating him, right?" Captain Harris put the cigarette back in the pack and shook his head. "No." My heart instantly sank. "Officially, the investigation into him is closed. From now on, he'll resume all his duties and his reputation will be restored." He looked at my shocked and despairing expression, adding deliberately. "But unofficially, I'm forming a special task force." "Just me and you." "Without alerting anyone, we're going to dig out the truth from eleven years ago." His eyes were like a knife hidden in its sheath—calm and sharp. "Child, do you dare use yourself as bait?"
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