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Five years ago, I received a case about campus bullying. The perpetrator was only 13 years old and used extremely cruel methods, including eating feces, drinking urine, and sexual assault. This led to the victim suffering from severe depression and eventually committing suicide by cutting their wrists. When the situation escalated, the bully's parents tried to settle the matter with money. They not only threatened me to make false testimony but also boasted, "My child is a minor. Even if he killed someone, he wouldn't have to go to jail, let alone bullying."
Chapter 1
[1]
Five years ago, I worked on a heartbreaking case of school bullying.
The bully was shockingly just a 13-year-old child.
His actions were incredibly cruel, subjecting the victim to severe and degrading abuse.
This led the victim into a deep depression, ultimately resulting in them tragically taking their own life.
As the case gained public attention, the bully's parents tried to use their influence to escape consequences.
They not only pressured me to give false testimony but also arrogantly declared, "Our child is a minor. Even if he did something much worse, he wouldn't face jail time!"
[2]
I received a familiar emergency call and quickly arrived at the scene.
In the school playground, I had just pushed through the crowd when I saw a young man lying unconscious in the middle of the lawn. His body was convulsing uncontrollably, and his forehead was drenched in cold sweat.
I hurriedly knelt down, applied pressure to the area between his nose and upper lip, checked his pulse and breathing, and tried to call out to wake him up. But he showed no response at all. It was clear he was in a deep coma and needed to be taken to the hospital immediately.
This was a university, and many students had never seen a police officer in real life. When they saw me arrive, they weren't scared; instead, more people gathered out of curiosity.
They started discussing among themselves: "Didn't Brayden faint while running the 800-meter test? It's not a murder case, so why are the police here?"
"Exactly, calling the police for this? The school is overreacting."
I frowned as I listened, thinking to myself, "Shouldn't they have called an ambulance first in this situation? Why did they call the police?"
But due to my emergency response training, after dialing 911, I quickly waved my hand, signaling the surrounding students to disperse. Their crowding here would affect the airflow, which was not good for the unconscious Brayden.
At this moment, a somewhat flashily dressed female teacher ran up to me with a malicious expression and said, "No one called the police. How did you get here?"
I glanced at her and felt a wave of disgust, knowing she had advanced her career through questionable relationships. My words carried a hint of sarcasm.
"Oh, isn't this Joyce? When did you get promoted from a middle school English teacher to a college counselor?"
Her face changed instantly at this, and she quickly raised her hand to signal me to shut up.
I shrugged helplessly, full of mockery. "Alright, even if I don't say anything, plenty of people already know about your little secrets."
Just then, my phone rang, and I quickly answered it. On the other end was a woman's voice, thick with sobs.
"Sergeant Sullivan, how is my son?"
The caller was Jenifer, Brayden's mother. Her husband, Phil, was one of the top entrepreneurs in our city. The couple not only funded the construction of schools but also donated to many welfare institutions. So, everyone respectfully called her Mrs. Olson.
"Mrs. Olson, he is still unconscious, but the ambulance will be here soon."
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Olson's voice rose sharply, carrying a tone of undeniable authority.
"Sergeant Sullivan, this is Jeffrey's revenge. He is retaliating against my son for causing his son's death. You must arrest him immediately, or my son will really die!"
Her words left me stunned. Her tone was as casual as if she were picking out groceries: "This one looks good, pack it up for me to take home."
Considering she had always lived a pampered life and didn't understand legal procedures, I cleared my throat and said seriously, "Mrs. Olson, arresting someone requires sufficient evidence. Do you have any evidence to prove that Jeffrey harmed your son?"
"You might say he has a motive, but that's not enough to draw a conclusion."
"And from what I can see, Brayden is simply unconscious. We need to wait for the hospital's examination report."
At this point, the ambulance arrived. I had to hang up the phone and help the paramedics lift Brayden onto the stretcher.
Just as I was about to get into the ambulance, Joyce suddenly grabbed my arm, her face dark and threatening. "Connor, we're both implicated. I advise you not to go against Mrs. Olson. If your taking bribes gets exposed, your career will be over!"
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