My Best Friend Died and I Protected the Killer

Outside, Emily stood motionless, holding her large wolfhound on a leash.

Rusty saw me and erupted into furious barking, digging its paws into the ground like it was about to spring.

My scalp prickled, and I stepped back, my spine pressed to the door.

I’d been bitten by a dog as a child, so I’d always feared Emily’s wolfhound.

In the past, when I waited for Emily to leave for school, she would always shoo the dog aside.

But now she held Rusty opposite me, her expression stunned.

"Clara!" Her face was dark, her voice cold and flat.

"I'll give you one last chance."

"Who dragged Rachel into the cornfield?"

I stared at her icy face and pressed my lips together. "Hurry up!" she snapped.

"I've told you so many times, I don't know!" I shouted, eyes shut.

A second later, a bark rang out, and the chain clattered free.

Rusty lunged, its jaws clamping into my shoulder, ripping flesh with terrifying force. Pain flared so hot I screamed.

I thrashed, but Rusty held fast, its teeth gnawing bone like metal, tearing away thick strips of skin.

"Emily, are you trying to force a confession?" I cried.

Emily's mother sprang forward, trying to yank the dog free, but Emily shoved her away. "Don't help her!" Emily screamed, her eyes rimmed red, venom in her stare.

"She sheltered the murderer. She deserves to die!"

Her mother tried to cover Emily's mouth, but Emily pushed her off, tears streaking down her face as she broke into hysterical sobs:

"She killed Rachel! She doesn't deserve to be our friend!"

"I want her to pay for Rachel's life!"

Rusty still bit into me; the agony made me howl.

I writhed on the dirt like a ragdoll being mauled. Just when I thought I'd be torn apart, my grandmother burst forward, shrieking, and tried to save me, but several villagers roughly held her back.

"Clara! My granddaughter!" Grandma wailed. "Pull the dog away! It's going to kill her!"

Someone spat, "Better if it died!"

"That heartless creature deserves to be torn apart!"

Grandma nearly sank to her knees, begging between sobs:

"Emily! Pull the dog away! You three grew up together; you were inseparable. Why are you doing this to my Clara?"

"Clara says she doesn't know. She didn't lie. Why don't you believe her?"

Emily's eyes filled. "I believe her, but what about Rachel?"

"Does Rachel know her best friend sheltered the murderer after her death?"

Her gaze was bloodshot and hard. "Clara clearly saw the killer, but she denied it. Why is she lying? Why is she shielding him?"

"Rachel and I treated her as a friend, but she thinks we're using her as a tool! What's the point of a friendship like that?"

Watching her pleas fail, Grandma stamped her feet in despair.

She felt helpless, begging the crowd to save me.

But everyone stood and watched.

The air smelled of wet earth and fear; villagers' faces twisted with triumph and accusation. Someone laughed cruelly, and another spat on the ground. The dog's breath was hot and rank; blood soaked my shirt and dripped into the dirt, mixing with village dust. I tasted metal and the sickening cruelty of their glee.

I watched myself being beaten to a bloody pulp, pain shredding through me.

Grandma’s face was streaked with tears; she trembled and collapsed onto the ground.

She kowtowed to the crowd again and again, her silver hair loose, her forehead reddened.

"Please… spare my granddaughter!"

"Our Clara isn't a bad girl. She didn't lie! Don't do this to her!"

Pinned to the ground, I watched Grandma bend and kneel before everyone, kowtow after kowtow.

Grandma was old, but she had never bowed or lowered her head to anyone. Now, for my sake, she accepted humiliation and begged for me.

At that moment, my heart tore.

I looked at Emily standing with arms folded, watching with a cold gaze.

Hatred rose in me like a tide.

"Grandma, don't kneel!"

I roared, a raw, piercing sound.

"Don't you want to know who the murderer is?"

"I'll tell you!"