On the day the factory's beauty accountant "killed herself over a breakup," everyone at the factory was gossiping about how loose her waistband was. Only I, a cleaner, knew she had died in the corner of the finance office, pinned beneath a bloodstained pen. Three days earlier, in a dream, she'd pointed to that very spot through her tears. When the police hastily closed the case, I quietly pocketed the pen. That night, I broke into Manager Ma's villa. "The accountant Lin's books, in exchange for half your life." He sneered and pulled out a gun, not knowing I was holding the pen. It had recorded the entire process of him raping and murdering her.
The wail of sirens stabbed into my temples like a sharp knife. The aftereffects of my drunken stupor still
