[MORAL DECAY!
A SHOCKING CASE ROCKS GREENWOOD CITY—AND THE VICTIM’S FATHER MAY FACE THE DEATH PENALTY!] [DOES THE LAW STILL NEED REFORM?
AFTER SEARCHING TEN YEARS FOR HIS DAUGHTER, A FATHER’S REUNION ENDS IN PRISON!] [OUTRAGE!
SHOULD HUMAN TRAFFICKERS LOSE THEIR LEGAL PROTECTIONS?
SHOULD BUYERS BE PUNISHED AS HARSHLY AS TRAFFICKERS?] [THE TESTIMONY OF AN ABDUCTED WOMAN: TEN YEARS CHAINED IN A WOODSHED…] …
November 8th.
At 6:30 in the morning, the sky over Greenwood City had only just begun to brighten, and the sharp November chill still hung heavily in the air while white steam continuously billowed from the stacked bamboo steamers and cooking pots of roadside breakfast stalls.
The newspapers spread across the tables carried one sensational headline after another about the Pine Hollow case, and the more the customers read, the angrier they became.
“Damn it!
When that girl was abducted, where was everyone?
When she was being abused for years, where were they?
But the moment her father gets into a fight with the bastard who bought her, suddenly the police are everywhere!” “What about Ethan Pike’s parents?
Why haven’t those two been arrested?” “They weren’t directly involved in the crimes.” “That’s bullshit.
Clara was trapped there for ten years, and you expect me to believe those two old people knew nothing about what was happening under their own roof?” “I wouldn’t be surprised if the money used to buy her came from them in the first place.” “Maybe, but suspicion isn’t evidence.” “Then what kind of world is this supposed to be?” The argument around the breakfast stall continued without pause, with several customers becoming so worked up that their faces reddened and their voices rose over one another while their eyes remained fixed on the newspaper as though they wanted to tear someone apart with their bare hands.
Professor Thomas Quinn stood a short distance away waiting for his breakfast and quietly listened to the discussion.
The stall owner, who was busy serving customers, glanced up at him before lowering his head again and casually asked, “Professor Quinn, what do you think about this case?” Thomas returned his attention to the man, shook his head, and sighed.
“It’s difficult.” He had not even needed to read the morning newspaper to know which case everyone was discussing.
The Pine Hollow trafficking case had already become the most talked-about legal matter in Greenwood City.
Clara Hayes had been abducted at fourteen and disappeared for ten years, during which she had been forcibly kept in Pine Hollow, chained inside a woodshed, repeatedly abused, and treated as though she were property rather than a human being.
Her parents had searched for her throughout that entire decade, only for Martin Hayes to finally find his daughter and become involved in the violent confrontation that left Ethan Pike dead.
Now Martin was the one preparing to stand trial.
“In cases like this,” Thomas said quietly, “there are usually attorneys who would practically pay out of their own pockets for the chance to represent the defendant.” The stall owner looked at him.
“Because of the attention?” Thomas nodded.
“Lawyers care about fees, obviously, but reputation matters too.
When a case attracts enough public sympathy, a successful defense can make an attorney famous overnight, and this case has already become big enough that nearly everyone in Greenwood City has heard about it.” From breakfast stalls and grocery markets to offices and street corners, people were talking about Martin Hayes and Pine Hollow.
Yet despite all that attention, not a single prominent criminal-defense attorney had stepped forward to take the case.
The reason was simple.
“Because it’s extremely difficult to win.” Thomas reached into his coat for his wallet while continuing, “Martin was the first one to physically confront Ethan, and Ethan died during that confrontation.
Even that fact alone places the defense in a difficult position, while much of the remaining evidence collected from the scene also favors the prosecution.” He shook his head again.
“It’s a difficult case.” The stall owner stopped what he was doing and frowned.
“I heard the trial starts the day after tomorrow, so there are still two days left.
Is there really nothing anyone can do?” Thomas was silent for a moment.
He did not particularly want to answer, because as a legal scholar he understood the problem more clearly than most of the people angrily discussing it around him.
“If there’s still a way to completely turn the case around, I’d put the chances at perhaps one percent,” he finally said.
“Calling it a miracle wouldn’t be much of an exaggeration.” Before the stall owner could respond, Thomas continued.
“Think about where the incident happened.
Pine Hollow.” The man nodded.
“The police and prosecutors had no choice but to collect most of the evidence there, which means the witness statements, local testimony, and much of the physical evidence all came from that village.” Thomas looked toward the newspaper lying on one of the nearby tables.
“And who are those witnesses going to be?” The answer was obvious.
The villagers of Pine Hollow.
People who had lived alongside Walter and Martha Pike for decades and whose attitudes toward Clara’s captivity had already become disturbingly clear.
Thomas sighed.
“You can imagine what kind of testimony people like that will give.
Even when the police know a witness may be biased, they still have to record statements that meet procedural requirements, and the prosecution is still entitled to use admissible evidence that supports its case.” The stall owner’s expression darkened.
“That’s why nobody wants to touch it?” “Exactly.
Cross-examination can challenge inconsistencies, but a defense attorney still needs something concrete to work with.
If nearly all of the available witnesses come from the same hostile environment while the defense has very little independent evidence, the risk becomes enormous.” Thomas sighed again.
A capable attorney could attack weak testimony, challenge credibility, and argue interpretation, but no amount of eloquence could magically create evidence that did not exist.
The stall owner opened his mouth, then eventually said nothing.
He handed Thomas his breakfast and returned to kneading dough.
Thomas looked once more at the customers arguing over the newspaper before turning away with his food.
The November morning was bitterly cold, and wrapped in a thick coat, Thomas walked through several intersections until he eventually reached the Taoist temple on the outskirts of Greenwood City.
He crossed the quiet courtyard and entered one of the residential rooms.
The door creaked open.
“You’re back?” A gentle voice came from inside.
Margaret Quinn approached him and closed the door after he entered.
“Yeah.” Thomas set the breakfast on the table.
“Eat while it’s hot.” Margaret glanced at him before turning to unpack the food.
“You’re in a bad mood.
What happened?” Thomas sat down and sighed.
“It’s that Pine Hollow case.
You wouldn’t believe how much public anger there is outside right now.
Breakfast stalls, grocery markets, supermarkets—I passed at least five separate groups discussing it just on the way back.” Margaret was no stranger to legal matters herself, and naturally she had also heard about the case.
She placed the food on the table and said, “What are you thinking?
If it bothers you this much, you could contact the local bar association and see whether there’s any way for you to become involved.” Thomas fell silent.
The law had always attracted idealists, and idealists had an unfortunate tendency to discover just how mercilessly reality could punish them.
Thomas had entered academia because he genuinely wanted to improve the legal system, make society more stable, and make ordinary people’s lives better, yet the deeper he studied the law, the more frequently he encountered situations in which every possible rule solved one problem while creating another.
Marriage law alone could illustrate the problem.
When courts required evidence that a marriage had genuinely broken down before granting a contested divorce, the rule could prevent opportunistic marriage scams in which one party entered a marriage only to immediately leave and divide property.
Viewed from that perspective, some procedural restraint seemed reasonable.
But the same restraint could trap a victim of domestic violence with an abusive spouse who refused to acknowledge that the marriage had failed.
Then the same rule suddenly appeared cruel.
Trying to create more exceptions did not always solve the problem either, because each exception could create another loophole that someone else would eventually exploit.
The law was rarely a matter of choosing between perfection and injustice.
More often, it involved choosing which imperfect solution caused the least harm.
Thomas had spent years confronting contradictions like that until, exhausted by the constant conflict between legal theory and reality, he had temporarily moved into the temple with his family to clear his mind.
“Forget it.” He shook his head.
“I’m an academic.
If I entered a criminal case purely because I carry the title of professor at a prestigious university, I might end up doing the client more harm than good.
Courtroom litigation isn’t the same thing as writing papers.” Margaret looked at him and smiled slightly.
“So you finally remember you’re a theorist?” Thomas glanced at her.
Margaret continued, “Lena’s custody case is connected to Pine Hollow, isn’t it?
Why don’t you go see whether she needs help?
You don’t have to represent anyone to give your daughter some theoretical guidance.” Thomas paused.
That was true.
Lena had recently handled Clara Hayes’s custody dispute, and although the custody proceedings themselves were separate from Martin’s criminal trial, everything surrounding the Pike family was closely connected.
With Martin’s trial approaching, Lena was probably under considerable pressure.
She was still young, after all.
It would hardly be strange if she had encountered something she did not know how to handle.
“But she hasn’t asked me anything these past few days.” Margaret replied, “She hasn’t been practicing for that long.
Maybe she doesn’t want her father to see her struggling.” Thomas considered that explanation and eventually nodded.
“That makes sense.” He stood.
“I’ll go see what she’s working on.
If I can help, I will.” Margaret smiled and watched him leave before sitting down to eat her breakfast.
Thomas walked to Lena’s room and knocked several times.
No answer came.
Not here?
He frowned slightly, then pushed against the door.
It opened.
Lena was sitting at her desk, completely absorbed in a thick legal volume, and the expression on her face made it look as though the book had caused her to question every decision she had made in life.
Thomas hesitated.
“What are you doing?” He stepped closer.
“You’ve been distracted for the last couple of days.
Is something wrong?” Then he noticed the book in her hands.
The Eastland Criminal Code.
His eyebrows rose.
If Thomas remembered correctly, Lena had left unusually early two mornings ago, and ever since returning, she had spent most of her free time locked in her room reading criminal statutes.
Judging from her expression, she had clearly encountered a difficult legal problem.
“Hmm?” Lena finally noticed him and turned around.
Seeing that it was her father, she relaxed slightly, but when she remembered his question, her expression became complicated again.
“Dad, I…
actually did run into a difficult problem.
I’ve been thinking about it for the past two days.” Thomas almost smiled.
So he had been right.
His daughter had encountered a legal question.
He pulled out another chair and sat beside her.
“That’s fine.
If you have a question, ask me.” Lena gave him an unexpectedly skeptical look.
“Can you handle it?” Thomas stared at her before laughing.
“If it were something outside my field, perhaps not, but when it comes to law, there aren’t many people in Eastland more qualified than your father.” That confidence was not empty arrogance.
Thomas Quinn was a senior law professor at one of Eastland’s leading universities, had supervised doctoral candidates, published extensively in respected international journals, and had even participated in scholarly consultations related to legislative and judicial reform.
Within academic legal circles, he genuinely stood near the top of the profession.
If his daughter had encountered a theoretical legal problem, Thomas could not imagine many questions she might ask that he would be unable to answer.
“Go ahead.” Lena remained silent for a while, still looking hesitant.
Then she took a deep breath and finally asked, very slowly, “Dad…
tell me something.” Thomas waited.
“Is stealing a child really illegal?” Thomas stared at her.
For several seconds, he genuinely wondered whether he had misheard.
Even someone who had never opened a law book in their life would ordinarily understand that taking someone else’s child was illegal, yet his daughter—a graduate of Harrington University who had spent years studying law and was now a practicing attorney—had apparently spent several days searching through the Criminal Code before coming to ask her father this question.
Thomas continued staring at her until disbelief finally overwhelmed him.
“Lena…” He reached toward her forehead.
“Are you delirious from a fever?”