Framed as a Peeping Tom, but I'm Blind

A gloating expression appeared on Captain Jenkins' face. "Hear that? Feels terrible to be betrayed by everyone you know, doesn't it?"

He then jerked his head at his subordinates. "Take him away!"

I was escorted down a long corridor, but this time, there was no discussion happening in low voices. Instead, everyone stared at me in the way one would look at a piece of trash.

I was shoved into a police car that would take me to the city detention center. Once there, I would wait for my trial.

Outside the windows, the bustling city flashed by before slowly disappearing into the distance behind us. Meanwhile, all I could do was lean against the cold side door and feel my body vibrate along with the vehicle.

Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me under and drown me.

At that moment, my phone rang again. When I accepted the call, the calm, emotionless voice of a female spoke up in a professional tone.

"Mr. Luson, I'm Teresa Kinsley, a lawyer from the legal aid office. I'm now taking over your case."

I blinked in surprise. She was from the legal aid office? But I hadn't applied for any help.

"The police requested it for you," Teresa explained as though she could guess my thoughts. "According to the rules for your situation, a lawyer has to be present."

I understood then.

This was all normal procedure, but in my case, it was a mere formality that we were going through. This Teresa woman had likely already decided that I was guilty, just like Captain Jenkins and everyone else had. She was probably going to advise me to admit to the crimes, then have me sign a bunch of documents.

"I have nothing to say to you," I croaked in a tired voice. "I'm not guilty."

There were several seconds of silence on the phone.

I thought that she would start to lecture me just like Captain Jenkins had, but she didn't.

Instead, she said in a business-like tone, "I've already looked into your case with the police. They found a pair of binoculars and a camera full of illicit photos at your house. Besides that, the victim's testimony is detailed and consistent, while many of your neighbors can testify that you were acting suspiciously. All in all, everything is pointing toward you being guilty."

Her every word smashed into my heart like the blows from a sledgehammer.

"If you insist on pleading not guilty, then once the case goes to trial and the judge accepts the evidence, your sentence will only be harsher."

I shut my eyes, but no tears came.

"So, are you also going to talk me into pleading guilty?"

"No." Teresa's answer stunned me. "I'm not here to persuade you into admitting to the crimes. I'm your lawyer, so my responsibility is to defend your legal rights. Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me. Please speak the truth."

Subsequently, she rattled off some questions with the cool precision of a machine.

"Firstly, are the binoculars and camera yours?"

"No."

"Second question. Were you acquainted with the plaintiff, Rebecca Zangler, before this? Or did you have any interactions with her?"

"No, we weren't acquainted, nor did I ever interact with her."

"Third question. Other than your vision, are your other senses, such as your hearing, more acute than a normal human's?"

That question caused my heart to skip a beat.

She was the first person who had ever thought about the possible changes to my body due to my vision loss.

"Yes."

"Okay."

I thought I could detect a faint hint of emotion enter her voice as she went on, "Mr. Luson, the police will hand you over to the city detention center in half an hour. Before that happens, they'll have you sign a detention notice. Don't sign anything they give you. Just wait for me to arrive."

With that, she ended the call.

I squeezed my phone and realized that a thin layer of sweat had formed on my originally icy palms.