Chapter 5

My mother let out a cold laugh.

"I know Jasmine got to you, told you to feed me these lines to scare me. I raised her for eighteen years. You think I don't know what's going on in that head of hers? It was one small lesson, that's all. This whole thing isn't nearly as serious as you're making it out to be."

"Let me tell you something. She has to be punished, or she'll never learn. My way of raising her has never once been wrong, and it never will be. If any of you dares to help her, I'll use my own life to teach her a lesson she won't forget."

"Don't think I'm bluffing. I say what I mean."

With that, she made a show of pressing the blade harder against her own throat.

Uncle Marcus's eyes went wide, and he cried out, the words tumbling over each other. "Hester, don't do anything rash. I'll listen to you. I'll do whatever you say."

He clawed at his hair in anguish, and the moment he looked up, he saw me standing in the doorway.

I said nothing.

I felt gutted, hollowed out.

His face was thick with guilt. "Jasmine, I'm sorry. Your uncle's useless…"

I shook my head and walked in.

As I passed my mother, she caught my hand.

Wearing the face of a devoted mother who'd sacrificed everything for me.

"Jasmine, everything Mommy's doing is for your own good. You'll thank me one day."

"Once you've reflected for a few days and turned yourself around, Mommy will go withdraw the case. I'll come pick you up myself, and I'll make you that braised pork you love so much."

"You won't hate Mommy for this, will you?"

I looked at her quietly.

Then I smiled.

"No."

Because from this moment on, she and I had nothing left between us.

I shut the door and crossed to my desk.

My acceptance letter from Ashford University was lying on top of it.

I put it away in the drawer.

I pulled the silk scarf out of my pocket, shredded it to pieces, and dropped them in the trash.

Uncle Marcus's voice rose again outside the door, arguing.

He was fighting for me, laying out every reason he had.

But I knew it was useless.

I leaned back against the edge of the bed and slid slowly to the floor, burying my face in my knees.

Early the next morning my mother dragged me down to the police station, bringing along the confirmation forms she'd forced Uncle Marcus and my cousin to sign.

The same female officer from yesterday received us.

Her expression was grave. She confirmed it, then confirmed it again. "Ma'am, once you sign and the case is filed, once it's in the system, this case gets formally handed over to the courts. It can't be withdrawn after that."

She glanced at me, drained of all color, and asked carefully, "There's still time to drop it now. Are you sure?"

My mother didn't hesitate for half a second. "I'm sure. Absolutely sure. I won't drop it if it kills me. Right now, this instant, file the case."

Officer let out a long sigh and nodded. "Understood."

The moment she signed her name, my mother brushed past me.

I saw the post she couldn't wait to put up on her social media feed.

It was the solemn, imposing seal by the entrance of the police station.

The caption read: "A little lesson behind bars, a big lesson in life. I've worn myself ragged for this child. I only hope she'll come to appreciate everything I've done for her one day."

Back home, my mother rolled out a suitcase and started packing my things for Ashford.

The whole time, she refreshed her feed every few minutes.

But not a single person liked it, and no one praised her wonderful parenting.

She backed out of the app and placed an order on a shopping site for a coat I'd wanted for the longest time.

Five hours later, still not a single like on her post.

A hidden, silent flutter of panic began to creep up in her.

She set down her phone and started counting the days.

The seven days she'd originally set for me to reflect shrank to five.

On the third day, to distract herself from the empty, cold quiet of the house and the unease she could bear less and less, she started tidying my room.

That was when she saw the shredded silk scarf in the trash.

She froze where she stood, the blood rushing slowly up to the top of her head.

The phone rang right then.

It was Ashford University.

"Am I speaking with Jasmine's parent? Our system shows that Jasmine has been sentenced to eighteen months in prison for aggravated assault. Because this criminal conviction is now part of her permanent record, our university is revoking her admission. She will never be admitted."