Chapter 38 Chapter Thirty-Seven

Two days later, I was lying in bed with Melanie, when there was an urgent knock on the door outside the room.who is it?I asked. Wait a moment.But it was too late, Melanie said.The door opened and Dalio walked in.She tried to rearrange her clothes, but he didn't care. Have you heard?he ask me. What did you hear? There was an agent at the house, he said, and he was talking to Estelle in the kitchen. I didn't answer.I try to think about the mistakes I made, the details I forgot.That's the problem with lies.You have to remember how everything fits together.The truth is easy, it takes care of itself.But when I looked at Dalio, sweating profusely and his eyes wide open, I breathed a sigh of relief.Leah, Owen, Pipa, Mike, Miles, and even Estelle.We all have our own secrets.I feel Melanie wrapping my arms around me.

So what's the problem?she asked. I'm going downstairs, Dalio said, and we should all pretend it's okay. But it was fine.Melanie said. That's right, Dalio seems to be talking to himself, it's okay.everything is fine. Dalio, I said, are you on drugs? In fact, it was unnecessary to ask him.His pupils were like little black pinholes. Just to calm the mind.He said. He disappears on the stairs.Melanie's face was pressed against my neck. Shall we go downstairs then?she said with a smile. I look at her.Let's sort out the clothes first.I said. Well, of course, she said, sorry.I was just getting ready to tidy up.

The party seemed to have begun as we descended the stairs arm in arm in a convivial couple pose.Sitting at the table and taking center stage is the agent.He was wearing a suit with a loose tie and the first button of his shirt unbuttoned.His graying hair was combed to the back of his head.His face was narrow, and his big flexible eyes looked around everyone in the room with a smile, taking everything into his eyes.I didn't have a good impression of him at first glance, and I didn't trust this guy.I said to myself: It is better to be careful, and you can't make a mistake in one step.Melanie and I sat at the table, each with a glass of wine poured from the pipa.Melanie immediately chatted with him in a shy and coquettish tone.I asked him if he was here to give a statement.It was the first time he had looked at me carefully, sizing me up and down.Why do you ask that?He said, do you have anything to say?

Damn, I cursed in my heart.Damn, damn.I was trying to fit in with the group, but I didn't expect to draw attention to myself.I have nothing to say.I stammered. But someone has something to say.Leah said. I have to hold back my smile.The focus shifts to other people's secrets, all thanks to me.Leah was like an evil little toy I'd wind up and start, and now she's making waves, throwing out minutiae to confuse the public.She threw Dalio's pack of tobacco at Chief Inspector Paul.In front of Kamsky, the drama reaches its climax.The night goes downhill from here. The only good news: Kamsky didn't arrest or even admonish Dalio.But from this moment on, the family relationship changed.

For the next two days, the family began to fall apart, and I was the spectator.Almost everywhere I go, I see people whispering and complaining about the former roommate of a friend or lover.Sometimes the treacherous atmosphere only lies in the cold eyes in the kitchen.The most brilliant plot is that a former lover of Pipa ran to the door to yell and curse, and then threw bricks at the glass, and it turned out that Liya was standing behind the window.The secrets that were originally hidden, so everyone reluctantly tolerated each other, are now exposed to everyone one after another. Most of the time, I find it amusing to stand by and watch what they do to each other, but sometimes it gets too much and it's too much for me.I will feel as if everything is playing out in my head, as if Dalio drew a line in my head, like Leah's manipulation, Pipa's negotiation with Miles, Estelle's ambiguity with Owen, and Mike, and all of them, turned into chattering voices.I feel like I should get drunk and teach them all to shut up and keep my ears clean, but I know I have to keep my mind clear.One mistake, one wrong word at the wrong time, and I'm screwed.

So, I chose to go out, walked through street after street, and finally came to the park, and saw couples arm in arm, mother pushing a stroller, and a little boy who couldn't fly a kite.I wanted to help him, because he's messing around with the thread at the wrong time, it's just unbearable; but then I think of people who have bad luck with kids.I don't know what happened to the two murders.I try to remember what Kamsky said, or what people say he said, and then I force myself to stop thinking about it.Because it's like dealing with a woman, the way to get out is not to dump her, and the end of thinking too much is to throw yourself into a trap.But thinking is the trick that can help me out of danger.Escape to sunny Brazil.But I'm really stupid to the extreme, I always seek money and murder, kill people, but I don't get a dime.No money, just anxiety and a strained head.

When I got home, I felt worse than before I went out.My head was buzzing with thoughts I was trying to suppress.I ran upstairs to my room.Melanie is in my room.She was startled.Gave me a guilty smile.I look around.The rooms seem to be different. You scare me.she says. what are you doing here Dalio let me in.she says. But what are you doing here? Listen to me, she said as she handed me some tickets, these are tickets for the Cherry Blossom Show.My colleague gave it to me.We can go together. I stared blankly at the tickets.Why would I want to go to the flower show? I don't know, she said, I thought

I looked around the house again.what did you do She began to stutter when she spoke.I bring some things here.wind chimes.And flowers.Cleaned up a bit and cleared things up. I walked up to her and pinched her neck lightly with my right hand.Push her back slowly.When she got close to the wall, I pushed her again so that her head hit the wall.Although it didn't cause any damage, it was full of force.Tears welled up in her eyes immediately.I bumped her again. David.She broke down in sobs. Don't speak.I said. I let her go and she started coughing. Get out of here.I said. No, David, I beg you.

I lowered my voice, and the way I touched her cheek was to slap her extremely softly, a little harder than a light slap on the skin.Don't touch my stuff.slap in the face.You are not allowed to come without my consent.Another slap.Understand?Another slap. She nodded. Get out now.I will call you again. She was gone, and I heard her footsteps coming down the stairs, and it was like a dream.I collapsed on the bed, but almost immediately jumped out of bed when I heard the loud knock on the door.I open the door.Estelle stood outside the door, wearing a red top and brown cropped jeans, her face full of anxiety.I met Xiaomei on the stairs, and she said, what happened?

No, I said, come in. She stepped into the room and moved quietly, as if hardly aware of where she was. how are youI ask her. I just talked to a crazy psychiatrist.she says. I try to put on a sympathetic face.What's wrong? The police sent me there.He was probably an expert on murderers. I shuddered, trying to think how someone less interested would respond.What is he?I opened up, I mean, what did he think? Master Scar Leather, she said, let me know if you know such a man. I almost laughed out of relief, and looked at my left hand.I still hold those stupid tickets.Estelle is the only one of my friends who is interested in gardening.I have something for you, I said.Should make you happy.

I made up a story, saying that the ticket was given by someone when I was working.She was as cold as I had been when I got Melanie's tickets, but polite.She asked if she should wear a lady's hat, as if making excuses to drop the date.Then she forced a smile, leaned forward, and planted a kiss on my cheek, the kind you might thank an old aunt for.I know she won't go.She will make excuses to decline.But maybe it's for the best.God knew what would happen if she met Melanie and mentioned it to her?Wonder if it would have been different if I had dismissed Estelle?Will she be attracted to me because of this?Here's the problem: things backfired.You have to genuinely not care about them for them to like you.If I had pretended not to like Estelle, she would have remained the same: seeing me as part of the landscape.She'll be nice to me, but she won't notice if I'm gone. She moves around the room, touches here and there, makes comments.She flicked the wind chimes, picked up a silk scarf left by Melanie, and flicked it with her fingers.She stopped by the mantelpiece, and I didn't realize until that moment that Melanie had found me from Ingrid.De.The glass town that Soto's family stole.She took it out of the drawer and put it blatantly outside.Now just wait for Estelle to move to the next place, and it can be taken back to an unknown place.Unexpectedly, she seemed to be lost in thought, and stopped in front of Wen Zhen.I was going to distract her by calling her name, but before I could say anything, she picked it up, played with it in her hand, held it up to the light, as if trying to remember it forever.The twilight in Wenzhen was colorful and dazzling. There is no paper under the Wenzhen, right? I mumbled something vaguely.We chatted casually for a while.She seemed to say she was looking for a shelter.I can't hear you well.Her words were drowned out by the hissing static in my head.She handed Wenzhen back to me, and I carefully placed it back on the mantelpiece, never taking her eyes off it.Later she said she was going to dance. good.I said, and remained silent.I want to tell her, don't let Owen touch her, or kiss her, or caress her, nothing else, otherwise the consequences will be disastrous. Then, I was left alone in the room, staring blankly at Wenzhen.Melanie couldn't remember, but Estelle had a photographic memory.unfair.My original plan went awry.I'm not that kind of person.I can't be called a murderer.My only wish is to start over and finally be myself.No, it's not fair.