(Mystery + supernatural + mediator + crime-solving + mind-bending + humor + healing)
“Help me.”
She stood in the corner of my flower shop, dripping wet, her feet hovering ten centimeters above the floor.
I said, “Tell me about it.”
She said her fiancé had pushed her into a lake. The case had been ruled an accident, and the killer had collected two million in insurance money and was about to marry someone else.
I asked how she died. She said she drowned.
I asked how the case had been ruled. She said it was an accidental fall into the water.
I asked how she knew he had pushed her. She said he was standing behind her, his hand against the small of her back.
Then I realized something:
I was talking to a ghost.
And I was questioning her in my mediator’s voice.
Twelve years of professional habits. I just couldn’t shake them.
“I want him to confess it himself,” she said.
I said, “Sure.”
Later, I discovered that there was a potted plant in this flower shop that made people blurt out every truth if you touched it.
They couldn’t hold anything back or stop themselves. Whatever crossed their minds spilled right out of their mouths.
I sewed one of its leaves into the killer’s wedding bouquet.
On the day of the wedding, with more than three hundred people there, the groom took the bouquet, and then…
Sorry, Chen Anhe, the mediator who smooths things over, is no longer taking cases involving the living.
