The meeting place was an abandoned warehouse—dark, damp, empty. The powerful men's underlings stood guard all around, a dozen of them, all armed with knives. My sister was tied to a chair in the center, her face as white as a sheet, terror in her eyes. She burst into tears when she saw me.
Zhou Yan had followed me, too—he wanted to stop me, to hand me over to the powerful in exchange for his own life.
I walked into the warehouse, empty-handed, feigning obedience, feigning defeat.
The leader of the powerful clique laughed. "Smart choice. Hand over the evidence, and we'll let you both go."
I stared at him, my eyes cold as ice. "The evidence has been with me all along."
As the words left my mouth, I raised my wrist and sprayed the special perfume hard on it. The scent tattoo blazed to life, and I shouted at the top of my lungs: "Now!"
Outside the warehouse, the former orphanage caregiver charged in with the witnesses and our allies, and the powerful men's underlings panickied at once.
This was my chance. I relied on my sense of smell, on my memory, and sprinted toward my sister, shoving the two guards beside her aside, untying the rope, and shoving the antidote spray into her hand. "Protect yourself."
Zhou Yan tried to lunge at me to stop me, but I threw all his criminal evidence down in front of him. "If you dare stand in my way, I'll let you die with the powerful."
Zhou Yan's face turned ashen, and he froze. Instead, he turned and helped me hold off several of the underlings.
Minutes later, all the men of the powerful clique were subdued—tied up, pinned down, helpless.
I handed over the scent tattoo on my wrist, all the evidence, to the witnesses. "This is the truth. This is the irrefutable proof of the arson all those years ago."
My sister threw herself into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and I held her tight, my body shaking with relief.
I had won. I had finally won.