Chapter 8: Confession

At first, Joe Carter wasn’t certain David Carter was the perpetrator. He just wanted to ask this old relative to clarify things. After all, he had entrusted Emily to his care.

Joe replayed every conversation, every shared meal, searching for clues he’d missed. He’d trusted David—enough to ask him for the truth, face to face.

When Joe Carter found David Carter in the school dormitory, David expressed deep condolences and repeatedly apologized for not taking better care of Emily.

David was all apologies at first—wringing his hands, promising he’d do anything to help. He spoke of Emily with fondness, but something in his eyes didn’t match the words.

But Joe didn’t blame him. He only wanted to know who had assaulted Emily. David, of course, claimed ignorance.

Joe kept pressing, his grief turning to anger. He demanded names, explanations, but David stayed vague, insisting he knew nothing.

But then, something strange happened.

The tension in the room ratcheted up. Joe described how David began to sweat, how his hands shook as he fumbled for answers.

Under Joe’s persistent questioning, David actually offered him a large sum of money, hoping he would let the matter drop and live well.

Joe’s voice rose as he recounted this—how David pulled out a wad of bills, thrusting them at him, begging him to “just let it go.” It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

Joe sensed something was wrong and kept pressing.

He stood his ground, refusing the money, demanding a real answer. The confrontation grew heated, voices echoing down the empty school hallway.

David gradually lost patience. Seeing Joe wouldn’t back down, he tried to drive him away. The argument escalated to a physical fight. David, being younger and stronger, quickly gained the upper hand.

Joe’s words faltered as he described the blows—how David knocked him to the ground, rage boiling over. But then, in the chaos, came a confession neither of them could take back.

After knocking Joe down, David flew into a rage, cursing him, and in his outburst, blurted out a shocking admission.

David’s voice, once meek, turned venomous. He cursed Joe, spit flying, his anger finally boiling over into the open.

He said the three girls were all assaulted by him.

The words tumbled out—ugly, unapologetic. Joe said he froze, the world spinning around him as the truth crashed down.

According to Joe, David’s exact words were:

“I did them all. So what? Old man. I offer you money and you won’t take it—do I owe you anything?”

Even recounting it, Joe’s voice trembled, as if saying it aloud might erase what happened. The shame, the rage, the heartbreak—all of it mixed into those few, damning words.

Hearing this, I was stunned.

It was a confession, but also a challenge—a dare for anyone to try to hold him accountable. I felt a cold fury rise in my chest, the sort that makes you want to tear down walls.

This case had caused such an uproar. Any normal person would never say something so reckless.

I’ve seen suspects break down, but never like this. It was almost as if David wanted to be caught—or wanted to prove he couldn’t be touched.

Either he was out of his mind, or he was no ordinary person.

Jason murmured, “No one confesses like that unless they think they’re untouchable.” The implication was chilling.

We comforted Joe Carter, told him to wait for news at home, and immediately rushed to the school to find David Carter.

Joe didn’t want comfort, but we offered what we could. As soon as we left him, we sped to the school, sirens off, our minds racing.

Because if what Joe said was true, then something was very wrong.

Everything about the case was wrong, but this was something else—a darkness that went deeper than we’d realized.

Why would he provoke and attack Joe with such dangerous words? It served him no purpose at all.

Unless, of course, he truly believed there would be no consequences. The idea chilled me to the bone.

And why did he offer compensation? Even if the school had such a plan, it shouldn’t be raised privately like this.

In any other district, hush money would be a scandal. Here, it felt like a symptom of something far worse.

What we found at the school shocked me more than anything I’d encountered in all my years as a police officer.

I’ll never forget that day. The quiet halls, the classroom doors closed tight, the feeling that something terrible had rooted itself in the heart of the town, hidden just beneath the surface. And for the first time in my career, I was about to find out just how deep this town’s secrets ran.