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"The Unwelcome Guest" Chapter 6

I didn’t argue with him.

I turned on my phone and cast the living room camera footage onto the TV.

The TV screen lit up.

The time was displayed clearly.

1:21 AM.

Liam walked in first.

Behind him was Mr. Henderson.

Mr. Henderson was carrying a black tool bag.

Mrs. Henderson stood in the entryway, cradling several empty bags.

Sarah peeked around the room and laughed, saying:

"This house is huge; it will definitely look good in photos later."

In the video, Liam lowered his voice.

"The bedroom key is behind the pen holder in the study. Move quickly, and don't touch the picture frames."

Mrs. Henderson asked: "Isn't the camera turned off?"

Liam replied: "Don't touch the living room one yet; the angle doesn't capture the bedroom. Wait until they bring their things in, then unplug it."

Ten minutes later, Mr. Henderson walked out holding a wooden jewelry box.

On the lid, there was a small inscription carved by my mother.

"Chloe, peace and safety."

Mrs. Henderson whispered: "This box looks old, is there anything inside?"

Mr. Henderson said: "Keep it for now. If she makes a fuss, just say she owes us renovation fees."

As the footage reached this point, the contempt on Mr. Henderson’s face finally shattered.

Mrs. Henderson stood up abruptly.

"You secretly recorded us!"

Julia immediately interjected: "The camera was installed in the living room of Chloe’s private residence, and the equipment had already been there for some time. You entered another person's home without permission; you cannot turn around and accuse the homeowner of preserving footage of their own household."

The phone in Sarah’s hand drooped.

She had still been filming moments ago.

Now, the lens was pointed at the floor.

Chen Hao took off his cap; beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

Liam took half a step back.

"Chloe, let me explain."

I didn't look at him.

"Explain it to the police."

The doorbell rang.

Chapter 11

Martha stood up as if she had been pricked by a needle.

"I’ll go open the door."

Two police officers entered.

I handed them my property certificate, ID card, the police report record, and the evidence materials one by one.

I tried to speak as clearly as possible.

I didn't cry.

I didn't argue.

Adults don't solve problems by raising their voices.

They solve them with solid evidence.

The officers first verified my property information.

Then they questioned the Henderson family about the source of their stay.

Mr. Henderson still tried to cling to the boarding agreement.

"We are boarding here; we have an agreement."

The officer looked at me.

"Did you sign this agreement?"

"No."

Julia added: "We are already preparing to apply for a handwriting analysis. The wedding planning company has original copies of Chloe’s recent signatures which can be used for comparison."

Upon hearing the mention of the wedding company, Liam’s face changed completely.

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The officer then asked: "What is the origin of the jewelry box?"

I took out my mother’s list of posthumous assets, the video taken before I left, and old photographs of the jewelry box.

In the photos, my mother was sitting on her hospital bed, holding that wooden box in her hands.

I said: "These are not valuable jewels; they are my mother’s keepsakes."

While the officers were reviewing the videos, Mr. Henderson was still putting up a front.

"That box isn't necessarily with us."

I opened another clip.

The next morning, Mrs. Henderson sat at my vanity table.

She opened the jewelry box and put the gold bracelet on her own wrist.

Sarah laughed beside her.

"Mom, this bracelet might be old-fashioned, but the gold is real."

Mrs. Henderson said: "Wear it for now, she isn't here anyway."

No one in the living room spoke.

Uncle Zhou stood up from the sofa, his expression grim.

"Mr. Henderson, you’ve gone too far."

Mr. Henderson glared at him.

"Keep your nose out of it."

Uncle Zhou didn't sit back down.

"I came to be a witness, not to help you steal someone else’s house."

This sentence seemed to tear a gap open in the room.

The logbook in Martha’s hands fell to the floor.

She bent down to pick it up, having to try twice before she could hold it steady.

The officer looked at Mrs. Henderson.

"Where is the jewelry box now?"

Mrs. Henderson’s tone remained stubborn.

"I don’t know."

Chen Hao suddenly spoke up.

"It’s in my dad’s car."

Everyone looked at him.

Mrs. Henderson panicked.

"What nonsense are you spouting!"

Chen Hao gripped his cap tightly in his hand.

"Mom, stop pretending. That day, you told me to put the box in the trunk and said to return it only after she signed the agreement."

Mr. Henderson slammed his hand down on the coffee table.

"Shut up!"

Chen Hao gritted his teeth.

"I won’t. You said we were just staying for a few days, then later you tried to make me post comments in the group chat to insult her, but I didn't do it. Today you want to force her to sign, I’m done with it."

This was the first crack.

It wasn't large.

But it was enough for everyone in the room to see the filth inside.

The officer demanded that Mr. Henderson lead the way to retrieve the jewelry box.

Mr. Henderson didn't move.

The other officer stared at him.

"Cooperate."

Mr. Henderson finally stood up.

As he reached the door, he looked back at me.

"Chloe, you’ve really burned all your bridges."

I said: "You were the one who pried open the door, not me."

He didn't speak again.

When the jewelry box was retrieved from the trunk of Mr. Henderson’s car, quite a few neighbors had gathered outside.

The gold bracelet was still there.

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The copy of the property deed was there too.

The medical records left by my mother had been used by Mrs. Henderson to rest a cup on, leaving a wet stain on the corner.

I took the box, and I did not cry.

Chapter 12

Julia helped me pack the box into a bag.

She lashed out at Mrs. Henderson: "Even someone's mother's keepsake you would take? Doesn't your hand hurt?"

Mrs. Henderson stubbornly retorted:

"Who knew what that was? I thought it was just clutter."

Sarah, hiding behind the crowd, whispered: "Mom, stop talking."

Mrs. Henderson turned and scolded her:

"What are you afraid of? Is she going to eat you?"

Sarah dared not say another word.

The police took the involved parties to the station to give statements.

Before leaving, Liam held me back.

"Chloe, I'm not like them."

Julia stepped directly in front of me.

"You are the dirtiest one of all. Without you opening the door, could they have gotten in? Without you providing her signature samples, could they have fabricated the agreement? What are you still acting innocent for?"

Liam’s face turned from pale to green.

"Julia, this is between Chloe and me."

Julia sneered:

"Between you and her? You gave her mother's keepsakes to others, handed her house over to neighbors, and forced her to call the police, and now you call it a private matter? Is your thick skin a family heirloom?"

Someone among the onlookers chuckled.

Liam’s eyes turned dark:

"Chloe, you let her talk to me like this?"

I looked at him:

"She was being too polite."

He could no longer keep up the facade:

"Don't regret this. If the wedding is canceled, don't even think about getting your deposit back from my family."

I asked: "Who signed the hotel contract?"

He stalled.

I took out my phone and opened the photos sent by the wedding company:

"On the hotel booking form, I signed as Chloe. On the boarding agreement, the last stroke of 'Chloe' was pressed too heavily; it doesn't match my signature habit."

Liam’s face went ash-gray.

I continued: "The wedding company has the original signature. You used that sample to imitate my name, didn't you?"

Liam immediately said: "I did not."

Julia handed her phone to the police officer:

"Please note this detail as well."

The officer looked at Liam:

"You’re coming with us, too."

Liam’s lips moved, but he finally stopped pretending.

At the station, Mr. Henderson still tried to frame it as a mere housing dispute:

"Her fiancé agreed to it; we thought he could make the decisions."

The officer asked: "Did you verify the owner’s own opinion?"

Mr. Henderson said: "They were about to get married; who knew they kept their finances so separate?"

I sat across from them:

"I rejected you to your face before I left."

Mrs. Henderson chimed in:

"You were just being polite back then."

Julia laughed aloud:

"Your family translates the word 'inconvenient' as 'polite talk.' Should we also translate 'call the police' into 'please come for tea'?"

Mr. Henderson glared at her.

The police officer tapped the table:

"Speak properly."

The statement process took three hours.

The door lock logs, videos, group chats, lawyer's letters, private threats, and the retrieval of the jewelry box were all registered one by one.

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