The Day of My Brother's One Month Party, My Family Was Destroyed

1: 1

On the day of my baby brother's one-month celebration, my parents put me in charge of collecting the gift money, saying it would all go toward my dowry someday.

The relatives teased and laughed.

Now big sister's got herself a little bodyguard.

Someone else raised a glass, wishing my parents a son and a daughter, a full and blessed family.

I smiled and kept my head down, tucking away the red envelopes one by one.

I didn't even stop to wipe the sweat off my face.

"It's hot out. I bought a watermelon and left it chilling in the room. Let me bring it out to cool everyone down."

My father stood as he said it.

My mother walked into the kitchen too and picked up the cleaver.

The light flashed off the blade and stabbed into my eyes.

My whole body jerked violently, and I bolted into the stairwell like something had broken loose, and threw myself off the eighteenth floor.

At the same moment.

My father opened the foam box that was supposed to hold the watermelon.

Inside lay a body that had long gone stiff.

It was my brother.

"First victim: Nancy Dickerson, female, nineteen. At eleven thirteen this morning, she fell to her death from the eighteenth-floor stairwell."

"Second victim: Clint Dickerson, male, Nancy Dickerson's brother. Found dead in the bedroom, also at eleven thirteen."

Joy Carter, an intern with the City Criminal Investigation Unit, read from her notebook as she reported.

The forensics team was working the scene.

Dana Lawrence, captain of the City Criminal Investigation Unit, let his eyes settle on my body, then lifted them toward the floors above.

"Did we pull the hallway footage from when Nancy Dickerson fell?"

Joy nodded and took out her phone.

On the screen, I sat in a chair by the door, head down, collecting the gift money from the one-month party.

Partway through I stood and stepped away, and in less than a minute I came back and sat down again.

The time reached eleven thirteen.

My father's voice came from inside the apartment.

The next second, my hands went still.

Like I'd heard something horrifying.

I threw myself out the stairwell window like I'd lost my mind.

Then the screaming exploded inside the apartment.

Joy's face had gone pale.

"Captain Lawrence, the time Nancy Dickerson jumped lines up exactly with when the brother's body was found."

"And there's still a missing minute in between."

"Is it possible she killed herself out of guilt?"

Dana narrowed his eyes at the me on the screen.

"Her hands were shaking while she collected the money, her eyes kept drifting. Something was clearly wrong."

"But if she really was the killer, why would she murder her own baby brother?"

Joy didn't have an answer.

"We're going up."

"Yes, sir!"

When they reached the scene, the relatives were pressed into a corner, nobody daring to speak.

Dana walked straight up to my parents.

"Mr. Dickerson, Ms. Lambert, my condolences."

"We need to go over what happened."

"When was the last time either of you saw your son?"

My mother sat with my brother in her arms, her eyes hollow, and said nothing.

My father's voice was hoarse.

"After we got up this morning, we went to the kitchen to get the food ready. Clint was in the master bedroom. His sister was looking after him the whole time"

"The relatives arrived, so I had Nancy come out to collect the gift money."

"Her brother was asleep in her arms, so we didn't want to wake him. We never thought"

His voice caught there.

"So after that, Nancy Dickerson didn't go back into the master bedroom?"

"I don't know."

My father fell silent for a dozen seconds, his eyes a little lost.

"Officer, the way you're asking this. Are you suspecting Nancy?"

"You think Nancy put Clint in that foam box?"

"That was her own baby brother!"

"Mr. Dickerson, please stay calm. We're just following procedure and ruling out everyone."

Dana turned as he said it and looked over at the relatives, asking whether anyone had seen me go into the master bedroom.

They all looked at one another and said no.

Aunt Diane added,

"But I ran into Nancy in the bathroom."

"When?"

"Ten forty."

That matched almost exactly with the gap where I disappeared from the footage. Dana frowned.

Just then the forensic examiner came over to my mother; they needed to take my brother's body for further examination.

The instant my brother was lifted out of her arms, my mother's eyes rolled back and she fainted dead away.

My father caught her, and in that moment he looked ten years older.

Watching them, something inside me felt hollow and empty.

Why would I suddenly kill myself?

Did I really put my brother in that foam box?

I couldn't remember any of it.

The last thing I remembered was my father saying, "I bought a watermelon."

My mother walking into the kitchen. That cleaver catching the light.

Dana had someone help my mother out, and softened his voice.

"Mr. Dickerson, I know how hard this is right now, but we need to confirm the scene of death."

"I've been observing since the moment I walked in."

"But"

He looked around.

"Where's the foam box from the scene?"

My father was quiet for a moment, then turned.

"Follow me."

He led Dana to the door of one of the rooms.

Dana stood in the doorway, his brow slowly tightening.

"Inside Nancy Dickerson's bedroom"

"Why are there this many foam boxes?"

2: 2

It wasn't just the foam boxes. There were cardboard ones too, stacked so high they almost reached the ceiling.

Even the bed had several piled on it.

On the wall beside the bed hung a poster of a young girl.

In the bottom right corner were two lines of small print.

Nancy Dickerson.

Taken June 18, 2013.

Dana paused.

Today was also June 18.

Could it be a coincidence?

"Officer, there was nothing we could do."

My father's voice cut into Dana's thoughts.

"When Nancy was ten, her mother and I went to work in a coastal city and left her back home with her grandmother for seven years."

"Later, when we came back for her, she had to sleep next to boxes at night."

"Without them, she'd scream and scream."

"We didn't have a choice. We just moved the boxes left over from shopping into her room."

He pointed at a foam box near the foot of the bed, close to the door.

"That's the one that used to have the watermelon in it."

Dana stepped into the room.

"Why was she like this? Didn't you take her to a doctor?"

My father lowered his head.

"We figure it was because her grandmother got into a fight with someone and fell to her death right in front of her. It traumatized her."

"We asked her why her grandmother was fighting, but she wouldn't say."

"Push her too hard and she'd scream like she'd lost her mind."

"She wouldn't go to the hospital either."

"Later the community arranged a counselor for her. She went to that doctor's office once a week, and only then did she slowly settle down."

Dana listened to my father while he examined the foam boxes.

Something still felt off.

Just then, Joy walked in quickly.

"Captain Lawrence, forensics found something."

"They just sent these photos over."

She opened her phone.

In the photos were my arms and legs.

Covered, edge to edge, in purple bruises and old scars.

Dana's eyes went cold.

"Mr. Dickerson, how did she get these injuries?"

My father rushed to explain.

"Officer, Nancy did that to herself."

"When she was at her worst, the second she got upset she'd slam herself into the wall, into the table. It still comes back now and then."

"We even bought padding to cover every sharp corner in the house, because we were afraid she'd hurt herself."

Dana looked around.

The corners of the tables and the edges of the cabinets in the living room really were all wrapped in padding.

It seemed to match what my father had said.

Joy frowned.

"Captain Lawrence."

"If she was this unstable, and had a history of self-harm, could she have killed her own baby brother without even knowing what she was doing?"

Dana handed the phone back to Joy.

"We can't rule it out for now, but we can't confirm it either."

"Get someone to collect fingerprints off the foam boxes. And bring in everyone who was at the one-month celebration today for fingerprint comparison. Tell the Forensics Division to rush the results."

"Yes, sir!"

He turned back to my father.

"That counseling office you mentioned earlier, do you have an address?"

Half an hour later, Dana and Joy drove to the community counseling center.

"Hello, we're with the police. We'd like to ask about Nancy Dickerson."

"Which doctor was in charge of her care?"

The receptionist pointed to an office at the end of the hall.

"Dr. James, right there."

The two of them had just started over.

The office door opened, and a woman came out carrying a black trash bag.

When she saw the officers, she visibly froze.

"Heading out, Dr. James?"

"No, just taking out the trash."

She smiled a little, set the bag down by the door, and led the two of them into the office.

When she learned Dana wanted to see my case file.

Sandra James showed no surprise. She just quietly took out the records.

"What happened to Nancy and her brother has spread through the whole community."

"I really didn't see it coming either. She'd been doing so much better lately. How could she"

Dana opened the file, and his brow furrowed.

"Why is there only the past year?"

Sandra sighed.

"There was a fire in the office a year ago. A lot of the paper files and computer records were destroyed."

Dana looked straight at Sandra and got to the point.

"Dr. James."

"Do you think a mentally ill patient, in a state where she wasn't clear-headed, could have killed her own baby brother?"

"You suspect Nancy killed her own brother?"

Dana didn't deny it.

Sandra was silent for a few seconds, then shook her head.

"Impossible."

"Why?"

Sandra looked at the file on the desk.

"Nancy wasn't mentally ill. She was only depressed. She wouldn't hurt anyone."

"She just felt she shouldn't exist."

3: 3

Dana leaned forward.

Does it have to do with the ten years she spent living at her grandmother's?

Because her grandmother fell to her death right in front of her?

Sandra paused.

For the details, you should watch the counseling recordings from back then.

After the fire, only three videos are left of anything to do with Nancy. They're enough to explain it.

She turned to her computer and opened a video.

This was the first time I met her.

On the screen, a girl was curled into the corner of a couch, head down, both arms clamped around her knees.

That was me.

Nancy, you don't have to be afraid.

Sandra's voice came through.

She sat down beside me and took my hand.

During the test, you wrote on the paper that you shouldn't exist.

Why do you think that?

I didn't answer.

An hour passed before my fingers finally moved.

Grandma diedI killed her.

After that, I didn't say another word.

Sandra opened the second video.

This time, my arms weren't wrapped around my knees.

Nancy, why do you feel like your grandma leaving was because of you? Would you like to talk to me about it?

I lifted my head, blank.

They came to play with meI didn't want to. Grandma came back, and they argued with Grandma.

I hid. When I came out, Grandma wouldn't wake up anymore.

So much blood. The floor was all Grandma's blood

Sandra took my hand.

Nancy, who were they?

I was silent for a long time.

They said they were Daddy's friends, coming to the house to play with me, to see how Grandma and I were getting along.

Every time they came for me, they'd give me a piece of candy.

The candy was so sweet.

All at once I dug a piece of candy out of my pocket and pressed it into Sandra's palm.

A shriveled piece of candy that had already melted.

But it hurt so much when we played the game. Do all games hurt like that?

Sandra's voice caught:

Nancy, did you ever tell your mom and dad, or your grandma, about this?

I shook my head.

Mom and Dad were so busy, and Grandma was busy too. I didn't want them to worry, so I hid on my own.

But even though I hid, Grandma still died.

If it weren't for me, would Grandma still be alive?

The video said it in veiled terms.

But Dana and Joy still understood.

Animals.

Dana cursed under his breath.

Sandra let out a sigh.

From then on, Nancy always believed she was the one who killed her grandmother.

She believed she was the one who shouldn't be alive.

As she spoke, Sandra opened the third video.

On the screen, I was nothing like the girl in the first video.

I sat beside Sandra, reaching out to hold her hand myself.

Dr. James, Mom had a baby brother!

Mom and Dad are happy, and I'm so happy too.

The first person he grabbed when he was born was me!

He's so tiny. I want to protect him the way Grandma protected me!

Dr. James, when it's time for his one-month party, will you come too? Please?

The Sandra in the video looked regretful.

I'm sorry, Nancy. I have patients to see that day.

The three videos finished.

The office stayed silent for a long time.

Dana was the first to come back to himself:

Dr. James, do you know why Nancy's bedroom was packed full of boxes?

It could be a hoarding disorder brought on by her mental illness.

Then why do you think Nancy would kill herself? And who killed her little brother?

Sandra gave a bitter smile:

I'm sorry. I don't know either.

After they left the counseling center, Dana and Joy said nothing the whole way.

If I'd wanted so badly to protect my brother, why would I kill him?

My motive had all but collapsed.

Back at the police department, Kerry and Kate had just finished giving their statements.

Dana walked straight over.

Mr. Dickerson, Ms. Lambert, there are too many things about this case that don't add up.

To get to the truth, we need to perform an autopsy on the child.

My mother's eyes went red in an instant.

Clint was still so small

My father took her hand.

Let them do it.

If Clint really was killed by someone, we can't let him die without answers.

Thank you for understanding.

Dana nodded and notified the Forensics Division right away.

Half an hour later, the office door was shoved open.

Joy rushed in.

Captain Lawrence, Clint Dickerson's blood test came back.

He didn't freeze to death. The examiner found a large amount of sleeping pills in his blood.

Preliminary suspicion is death from a sleeping pill overdose.

The killer is Nancy Dickerson!

4: 4

Dana didn't argue right away. He just looked at her.

"Joy, walk me through your thinking."

Joy nodded and pulled out Nancy Dickerson's case file.

"Captain Lawrence, look here."

"Last week Nancy went to the counseling center and told Dr. James she'd been having trouble sleeping lately."

"And Dr. James wrote her a prescription for sleeping pills."

"That was the first time in two years Nancy filled a script for them."

Joy flipped to the father's statement.

"Nancy's father says that when he sent her out to collect the cash gifts, Clint was already asleep."

"Which means she had plenty of time with the baby before that."

"Isn't it possible she fed him the pills while he was sleeping?"

"Then, to hide the real cause of death, she put him in the foam box."

"There were ice packs from the frozen watermelon inside the box, so everyone would assume the baby froze to death."

Dana said nothing.

After a moment, he asked, "And the motive?"

Joy froze.

Dana went on, "Besides, her file shows she saw her brother as someone to protect. Someone who'd spent all that time protecting him why would she suddenly kill him?"

"Could Nancy have been lying?"

He added another point.

"And there's this."

"Before she jumped, Nancy was at the door the whole time collecting the cash gifts."

"The hallway camera proves she was out of everyone's sight for less than a minute."

"And in that minute, her aunt confirms she was in the bathroom. So how did she get the baby into the foam box?"

Joy went quiet.

It was true.

If I were the killer, too much of it didn't add up.

But she was still frowning.

"But Captain Lawrence"

"Clint's parents had him late in life. Every relative says they treated that boy like a treasure."

"There's no way they'd hurt their own son."

"And everyone at the one-month celebration party has alibis that back each other up."

"Except Nancy"

Her voice dropped lower and lower.

"Is there really no one left?"

Dana shot her a glance.

"It's not that we can't find the killer. It's that we've missed one key thing."

"Find that, and all of it connects."

Just then Dana's phone rang.

It was the Forensics Division.

"Captain Lawrence, the fingerprint results on the foam box are in."

He answered at once.

"What have you got?"

The line was silent for a second.

"There are only Mr. Dickerson's and Ms. Lambert's prints on the box. No third person."

Dana's expression changed in an instant.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

The call ended, and the office fell silent.

Dana stared at the case materials on the desk, his brow drawing tighter.

The foam box was in my bedroom.

Even if I weren't the killer, my prints couldn't just be missing from it.

Yet now Forensics was saying only my father's and my mother's prints were on it.

Dana rubbed the space between his brows.

"What a mess."

"Joy, get me the hallway footage. I'm running it from the top again."

"We've missed something. I know it."

Joy pulled up the surveillance from that day at once.

Dana watched it over and over.

The first time, nothing stood out.

The second time, still nothing.

The third time, his hand stopped.

The image froze.

The timestamp read 10:40.

A figure flashed past.

Dana narrowed his eyes.

"Joy, look at this person. Doesn't he look a little familiar?"

Before Joy could catch up, Dana shot to his feet.

"So that's it!"

"I know who the killer is!"