I've been framed!
My brother called me to the hotel with a phone call. When I opened the door, there was blood all over the floor.
The security guard arrived before me. The police arrived faster than the takeaway.
Interrogation room. The fingerprints are mine, the hair is mine, and the surveillance camera captured me entering the room. Forty-eight hours later, I was a murderer.
The forensic doctor who collected my DNA was my ex-girlfriend who we broke up with three months ago.
She didn't look at me the whole time. When the sampling was over, she turned off the video recorder.
"Start with that phone call. Every detail."
I said it. The No. 38 Bus, the retrograde white Chevrolet, the pink rubber gloves of the fruit stall proprietress, and the black Audi in front of the hotel.
It's not just one person who framed me. It's a whole force that I can't see.
After three years of food delivery, I have developed a skill - every road I run and every face I see are engraved in my mind.
They say this is called "urban memory".
I say this so as not to time out.
Su Wan opened a crack for me. I used my memory to kick the door open.
