Chapter 9 — When the Spider Plant Turned Black

The terror currently exposed in her eyes was far more genuine than all the bitter tears she had just shed. I picked up the bottle and handed it directly to the senior police officer.

She was just about to touch this.

My mother-in-law bolted upright from the couch instantly.

I did no such thing!

Tran Nghien also panicked, his voice rising in distress.

Ha Vu, you do not have to view everything everyone does in such a malicious light.

I rolled up my sleeves to expose my forearm for the authorities to see.

She lunged to snatch my bag just now, and she clawed at me.

The angry red scratch on my arm was already beginning to turn a bruised, ominous purple. The younger officer glanced at it and turned to the mother-in-law. Did you scratch her?

The mother-in-law stubbornly tightened her jaw, refusing to yield.

It was merely an accidental scrape during our scuffle.

My mother let out a chilling, sardonic laugh.

Is that so? A casual touch is all it takes to leave deep, bloody fingernail marks like those?

Tran Nghien looked deeply embarrassed, his face flushing as he lowered his voice.

Mother, please just be quiet for a moment.

My mother fixed her gaze squarely upon him.

The one who needs to keep quiet is you.

The older officer carefully dropped the tea bottle into a clear plastic evidence bag, then instructed his junior to take photographs of the balcony and the ceramic flower pots. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law slumped back onto the sofa, her trembling hands endlessly rubbing against the fabric of her trousers. One moment she complained that her blood pressure was dangerously high, and the next she whimpered about a sudden, stabbing pain in her stomach. Yet the exact second the police inquired about where she had purchased that particular variety of tea, she snapped back to complete alertness.

Some distant relatives from the countryside sent it to us.

The officer narrowed his gaze. Which relatives?

She hesitated for a beat, her eyes darting nervously.

Oh, they are extremely distant relatives. Even if I named them, you would not know who they are.

Give me their names, phone numbers, and addresses.

The mother-in-law pressed her lips into a thin, unyielding line. Tran Nghien quickly jumped in to cover for her.

I am certain my mother simply cannot recall the details right now.

The officer shifted his piercing attention to him.

Are you aware of this specific type of tea, sir?

Tran Nghien’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently as he swallowed.

I knew she brewed it for Ha Vu to soak her feet in, but I genuinely believed it was merely some kind of traditional health tonic.

And whose idea was this treatment?

He fell dead silent. Suddenly, the mother-in-law slammed her palm hard against the wooden armrest of the sofa.

It was me! I thought of it entirely on my own, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with my son!

Her words were framed as a desperate act of maternal protection. Yet as they settled in the air, my heart turned completely to ice. By rushing to shoulder the entire blame herself, she was not admitting wrongdoing; she was frantically trying to sever any connection between the act and Tran Nghien. I turned my eyes to him. Do you truly mean to tell me you had no idea what was actually inside that brew?

He met my gaze, a flicker of guilty panic darting through his eyes.

I really did not know.

My mother scoffed derisively.

You are answering far too quickly. Just what is it that you are so afraid of?

The senior officer did not issue a final verdict on the spot, but instead instructed all of us to accompany them back to the station to formally file our statements. Before heading out, he turned back to issue a stern warning to the mother-in-law.

You are strictly forbidden from tampering with or destroying any related items. We may need to transport them for further laboratory testing later on.

The mother-in-law nodded vigorously, her head bobbing up and down.

I understand completely, I understand.

Yet even as she spoke, her anxious eyes flickered once more toward the kitchen. The sudden movement reminded me instantly of the heavy black iron box.

There is still more evidence hidden in the kitchen.

The mother-in-law shot up from the sofa as if struck by lightning.

There is nothing in there!

Her voice rose to such a shrill, piercing shriek that even Tran Nghien looked momentarily stunned. I pointed firmly toward the lower cabinets.

Inside the old aluminum steamer, there is a hidden iron box.

The police strode purposefully toward the kitchen. The mother-in-law made a desperate move to chase after them, but my mother stepped squarely into her path, blocking her way.

Dear in-law, aren't you suffering from shortness of breath? Just sit quietly right where you are.

The mother-in-law’s face twisted into an ugly grimace for a fleeting second. The cabinet door swung open with a hollow creak, and the dented steamer was dragged out into the open. The younger officer lifted the lid, and tucked neatly inside was indeed the heavy black iron box. The lid was sealed far more tightly than when I had first stumbled upon it. Donning a pair of thick protective gloves, the officer had to exert considerable muscle to wrench it open. A foul, heavy stench of bitter decay immediately billowed out into the room, causing everyone present to wrinkle their noses in revulsion. The mother-in-law squeezed her eyes shut tightly, as if every bone in her body had suddenly been liquefied. Tran Nghien stared fixedly at the iron box, his lips entirely drained of color.

This is precisely what she mixed into the foot-soaking water day after day, I stated coldly.

The mother-in-law suddenly burst into a hysterical, screeching wail.

You filthy thief, you were snooping through my personal belongings! You have absolutely no manners or upbringing!

My mother instantly stepped in front of me, shielding me.

If she had not snooped through your things, we would never have known just how much longer you and your son intended to poison her with whatever vile filth you brewed!

The police promptly sealed the iron box into an evidence bag as well. As they continued their thorough sweep, they uncovered a small, grime-stained cloth bundle tucked deep beneath the bottom shelf of the sink. It had been pressed flat right next to the steamer, its edges thoroughly obscured by layers of sticky kitchen grease. When the officer carefully untied it, a handful of yellowed, brittle paper documents spilled out. Scrawled across the pages were frantic, jagged lines of erratic handwriting. Leaning in close to inspect one of the exposed pages, my blood ran instantly cold in my veins, paralyzed to find a single, chilling sentence aggressively circled in thick red ink.