Accused: The Molester Next Door
Chapter 7: The Funeral Garland
Two days later, early in the morning, I went to open my shop and found a funeral garland at the door.
It was the kind you see hanging outside someone’s house when there’s been a death—marigolds and chrysanthemums, wilting already in the heat. A stray dog sniffed at the marigold petals, then slunk away as if even he didn’t want to be seen near my shop.
At first, I thought someone had left it there by mistake after a condolence meet.
Old Mrs. Joshi on the first floor had passed away last week; maybe the flowers were misplaced.
But when I got closer, I nearly fainted from anger.
On the garland, it read: “Scumbag shop owner molests young girl—may your whole family die soon.”
The letters were bold, written in red marker, spelling doom. My hands trembled as I ripped the garland off the shutter, the petals scattering on the pavement. A group of boys snickered from across the road, whispering behind their hands.
