The rock singer had already resigned himself to his fate, but at those words, he suddenly sprang to his feet again, even angrier than she was. "A debt of gratitude as heavy as a mountain? What utter nonsense! You don't know anything at all! That woman hit someone twenty years ago, then pinned the blame on my mother. She even killed her and disguised it as suicide, fooling those stupid cops."
The photographer froze. Back then, he had wanted to personally avenge his wife's death against the person who had run her over, only to find that the culprit had killed herself first. But now the rock singer was saying that the person he had believed to be the culprit was an innocent scapegoat, while the true culprit had not died and had now been murdered by someone else?
The photographer found it hard to believe. "Y-you're telling the truth?!"
The rock singer nodded heavily. "I only found out two months ago. While sorting through my mother's belongings, I damaged her diary, and a letter actually fell out from inside the cover—the letter contained the whole truth."
The secretary hurriedly said, "But how can you believe everything based on just one letter? What if your mother felt guilty and merely imagined someone else as the culprit?"
The rock singer said, "Of course it's true! The accident happened on October 31, which was my birthday—I'd been with my mother the entire day, ever since I was six years old. Yet my testimony somehow couldn't be used as an alibi."
He then looked at the photographer with a complicated expression. "Beniko Suho had long forgotten about that accident. She didn't even remember that you were the husband of the person who died in that car crash. It wasn't until she heard you