for. But looking at her broken expression, I swallowed my anger.
“Okay,” I agreed.
My mom had suffered enough. I couldn’t let her endure this humiliation because of me.
My surrender was a victory in Sharon’s eyes. She stood on her moral high ground, her voice booming with triumph.
“Have you two decided?” she yelled. “If you have, then pay up!”
She held up a bank statement. “My husband has spent almost ten thousand dollars on your daughter. I want every single cent back. If you don’t pay up, neither of you is leaving here today!”
As if on cue, one of the onlookers chimed in. “You have no morals, and you’re teaching your daughter to be just as shameless! Pay
the woman back!”
“Yeah, ten thousand dollars! Do you know how long it takes a normal family to save that much? And you two just squandered it! Disgusting!”
My mom’s policy was always to de–escalate, to let things go–unless it was about me. Hearing them call me shameless, she finally snapped back.
“Don’t you talk about my daughter that way! She’s a good girl! She’s not what you say!”
Unfortunately, she was no match for them.
The woman just sneered. “If she’s so good, she should stop taking money from another woman’s husband.”
“Exactly! A whore wanting a monument to her chastity. I’ve seen it all now!”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Sharon said, seizing the moment. “This little brat has been walking all over me for years. I wouldn’t be here
if she hadn’t pushed me too far.”
Sharon took out her phone, held it to the bullhorn, and pressed play.
My own furious, sharp voice filled the air. “…Something lower than the trash they sweep out of a brothel!”
“You all heard that, didn’t you?” Sharon said, her voice trembling as if she were the victim. “That’s how she talks to me. If I don’t
stand up for myself, I’m afraid she’ll be the death of me one day!”
That did it. Even the few people who had been neutral now shot me looks of disgust.
“Are all illegitimate kids this vicious now? That’s terrifying.”
“What’s to be scared of? The law protects them. It gives these rats from the gutter all the power they need.”
My mom, furious, tried to argue with them, but I held her back and shook my head. Hel
dog like Sharon.
I looked straight at my stepmother. “You want money, is that it?”
Sharon’s eyes lit up. “Spit it out!”
quiet arguments were no
match for a rabid
at
have
to apologize.”
“And,” she added, tilting her head back and looking down her nose
deeply.
If y
“Get on your knees and apologize to me!” she commanded.
