That Rainy Night's Shadow

My name is Mia Larsen, and I am thirty-five years old. It's been ten years, and I thought those dark days had long since been buried by time. But when dust kicked up at the village entrance and that black luxury car rolled to a stop, I knew there was no escaping what was coming. The car door opened, and Jessica Watson stepped out. She had changed—dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, her makeup flawless, exuding an aura that kept strangers at bay. She was no longer the carefree girl who used to trail behind me and Daisy, laughing without a care. Now, she was the nation's richest woman—an untouchable, exalted presence. And I? Just a sickly village woman barely clinging to life. She didn't give me a second to react; two towering bodyguards behind her came straight at me. My already frail body had no strength to fight back as they dragged me along. "Jessica, what are you trying to do?" I croaked out the words, my voice trembling with fear. She didn't look at me. Instead, she coldly ordered the bodyguard, "Take her to the square. Let everyone see the true face of the woman protecting the killer." The square quickly filled with a crowd. There were villagers, along with reporters carrying cameras and microphones. The villagers' eyes stabbed into me like knives, their mouths spewing harsh curses I could hardly bear. "It's her—the one who covered for the killer after Daisy, such a good girl, was bullied into taking her own life!" "She really has no heart. Daisy treated her like a sister, and yet she treats Daisy like this!" I don't know who threw the first stone, but it hit my arm, burning with pain. Then more stones and rotten vegetable leaves came flying at me. I curled up, letting those things rain down on me as despair crept over me. Jessica Watson stepped forward, towering over me, hatred blazing in her eyes. "Mia, ten years have passed. It's time you told the truth." I lifted my head, staring into her cold eyes. My lips moved, but no words came out. "What? Still trying to cover for that killer?" She sneered coldly, pulling a palm-sized silver device from her pocket. "This is a Memory Extractor. Just press it against your temple, and every single memory you have will be pulled out and made public." The crowd around us erupted instantly. "Go on! Make her spill everything!" "We can't let Daisy's death be for nothing!" Jessica Watson gripped the instrument and closed in on me step by step. "Tell me—who was the killer who raped Daisy back then?" "If you don't, I'll use this right now and force you to relive that filthy memory in front of everyone." I looked at her, pain and helplessness twisting in my heart. There are some truths I don't want to say—not because I won't, but because I can't.