I dated my university girlfriend for four years. It wasn’t until graduation day, the day we broke up, that we finally had our first time. In the throes of our passion, I couldn’t hold back my bitter words. “What is this, Scarlett? Is this your pitiful compensation for four years of my life?” Her eyes welled up with tears, and she shook her head frantically. “You’ll marry me, won’t you?” The next day, I was just about to leave with a ring and flowers. But the police came and took me in. In the interrogation room: “Alright, tell us. What was your motive for killing your girlfriend?” I froze, tears instantly streaming down my face. I stared at them in disbelief. “You suspect *me* of murder?” “I was the one who loved her most in this world, I would have given my life for her! And you suspect me?” “Look at these flowers and this ring I’m holding! I was going to propose to her today! How could I possibly kill her?” The more I spoke, the more agitated I became, my interrogation chair shaking as if it would fall apart at any moment. “What are you yelling about? Do you think we’d arrest you without evidence?” With that, Captain Miller slammed a stack of evidence onto the table in front of me. “1. Your girlfriend died in the hotel room you booked. It was a perfect locked-room mystery. No one else entered or exited that room except the two of you.” “2. Your DNA was found inside your girlfriend, your skin tissue under her fingernails, and your fingerprints covered her body.” “3. Her body was covered in bruises and injuries.” “4. Her cause of death was asphyxiation. The towel, used as the murder weapon, was found nearby. It only had your fingerprints and the victim’s DNA.” “If you’re not the killer, how do you explain all of this?” “You did such a brutal thing to her, yet you claim to deeply love her? You’re a monster!” Captain Miller lost his composure too, pounding the table and shouting at me. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” Under his aggressive interrogation, my mind was on the verge of collapsing. “Then why was your phone off the whole time? It only turned back on right before we caught you?” “My phone battery died. I only realized it when I woke up this morning…” My body suddenly stiffened. Holding those files in my hands, as a crime scene investigator myself, I started trembling. Isn’t this a perfect, closed chain of evidence? With all this undeniable evidence stacked against me. I was the one who killed my girlfriend!
But I wasn’t the killer! I had left the hotel much earlier that day. After that, I never went back. Who knows what could have happened during that long period? Today, Scarlett and I had planned for me to go to her stepfather’s house to announce our relationship. And to propose to her right then and there. I left the hotel to first tell my parents about our relationship. Then, I planned to prepare everything for going to her house today. But instead, she died in the hotel. I was filled with regret. If only I hadn’t left that day. Perhaps this tragedy wouldn’t have happened. Scarlett was dead, and I was in agony. But I had to put my grief aside for now. The police had already prejudged me as the killer. If I sank into my sorrow right now… If I couldn’t defend myself. Then I would become the scapegoat for her murder. And the real killer would walk free! So, I forced myself to suppress my pain, reading through the information on the files, word by painful word. According to the crime scene report: Scarlett’s time of death was between 5 PM and 7 PM yesterday, and the location was the apartment-style hotel where she and I had checked in. The police investigated the hotel’s front desk records and the hallway surveillance footage. From 4:30 PM, when we entered the room together, until 5:30 PM, when I left the room alone. No one else had entered or exited the room during that time. It wasn’t until 5 AM today, when Scarlett’s stepfather, seeing she hadn’t returned all night, showed up. He found the hotel, inquired at the front desk, and, accompanied by the front desk attendant, went to the room. He found the door unlocked, and after calling out with no reply, he entered the room. That’s when he discovered my girlfriend, completely naked, dead on the bed in a strange, contorted position. Based on the crime scene investigation and the autopsy report, the police quickly reached a conclusion. Scarlett died from mechanical asphyxiation. She had been sexually assaulted before her death. The fresh bruises on her body were clearly not from a normal lovers’ encounter. Moreover, her body was in a peculiar position, her limbs bound. … Seeing this, My heart skipped a beat. Because the information described in the report. It perfectly matched what Scarlett and I had done that day. But when I left, I had clearly untied her. If no one entered or exited the room afterward, then who bound her again?
I quickly flipped through the crime scene investigation report. I only remembered there was a window in the room, but Scarlett had drawn the curtains as soon as we entered. I was too nervous throughout the whole process. So I hadn’t paid any attention to what the window looked like. Now, looking at the crime scene photos, the window was entirely covered with security bars. Though there was an escape hatch in the bars, it was firmly sealed with a rusted-shut lock. The room had a window-mounted AC unit, so there were no ventilation shafts either. That meant, to enter or exit this room, assuming no forced entry, the only way was through the main door. But a camera was positioned just down the hallway, directly facing my room. After reviewing the camera footage, the police concluded that no one had entered or exited. All of this was far too bizarre. Two words suddenly jumped out at me: Locked-room! A perfect locked-room mystery. Unlike the plots in other crime novels… This locked-room case pointed all the evidence directly at me. I looked up at Captain Miller and the others. “Captain Miller, don’t you think this is highly unusual? If I were really the killer, why would I leave so many clues?” Captain Miller had regained his calm. “You think there’s a problem? Perhaps it was just a crime of passion? You mentioned earlier that it was your first time together.” “But our autopsy found that your girlfriend was not a virgin. You dated for four years, and she always presented herself as pure and untouched before you, yet she wasn’t. So, in a moment of twisted rage, you brutally murdered her.” “But it was your first time killing, and in your panic, you didn’t think to cover your tracks, fleeing the scene in a hurry.” I was speechless for a moment. “Captain Miller, according to your theory, I fled in panic, so why did I just wait at home for you to come and arrest me?” “I’m a crime fiction expert. If I really killed her, I would have committed a perfect crime, not this shoddy, amateurish job, riddled with holes.” “And besides, I already knew my girlfriend wasn’t a virgin. What kind of era is this? Do I really care about that anymore?” “Moreover, you’re prejudging me as the killer based solely on crime scene photos and my girlfriend’s autopsy! Do you even know what truly happened that day?”
My emotions flared up again. But this time, Captain Miller didn’t interrupt me. Instead, he watched me carefully, seeming genuinely ready to listen. I decided to continue. I even took a moment to steady myself, knowing that when emotions run high, it’s easy to say the wrong thing. That day, Scarlett and I had arranged to go back to the university to pick up our diplomas. For a long-awaited reunion, and to put a definitive end to our four-year relationship. After all, from the moment we started dating, our relationship was different from ordinary couples. What she showed me was more a dependence on an older brother figure. Or, to put it more bluntly, she was seeking the comfort of a father’s love from me. In high school, I was obsessed with writing crime fiction and neglected my studies. I failed to get into university for five consecutive years. In the sixth year, my dad smashed my computer and tablet, burned my manuscripts. He swore that if I didn’t get into university this time, he’d send me to a mental hospital. It was only then, after a year of hellish cramming, that I finally got into this average university. So, compared to Scarlett and her peers, being five years older, I was much more mature than them. The first time I saw Scarlett, a sense of familiarity washed over me. My usually calm heart skipped a beat for her. We were drawn to each other and quickly became a couple. Our bond was something sacred, a mix of profound love, a sibling-like connection, and a deep, almost paternal affection. How could such a bond be fixated on mere physical pleasure? We cared more about a high level of spiritual compatibility. But what would happen to our relationship once we left the campus? Society would ultimately define relationships between men and women by those physical acts. How could our sacred and pure bond be defiled by such things? After discussing it many times, we decided that on the day we picked up our diplomas: we would break up. After getting our diplomas, we walked out of school, holding hands one last time. I was waiting for her to say goodbye. Because those two words, coming from me, would hurt her too much. It wasn’t until we walked out of school that she turned around, her eyes brimming with tears, and looked at me steadily. I took a deep breath, waiting for her to deliver the final verdict. But, to my surprise, what she said was… “Jax, could you… could you take me? Just once?” “You were enraged that she defiled your sacred bond, so you killed her afterward, didn’t you?” Captain Miller suddenly interrupted me, a look of insight on his face.
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