Chapter 5

My heart sank. Daisy Mitchell's parent, that would be Eleanor Mitchell, wouldn't it? If Ethan came to school, he'd run right into Eleanor. I pursed my lips, so annoyed.

I said bluntly: "Teacher, no need to call my parents. I'll pay for the money."

The teacher was stunned. "Chloe Hayes, do you know how much our school tuition is?"

I said impatiently: "Isn't it just a few tens of thousands of dollars?" "I'll give her my allowance. Let's just drop this." But I immediately added: "I can cover the money, but I didn't steal it." This was my bottom line. I was willing to pay to end the trouble, but I wouldn't admit to stealing.

The teacher frowned, seemingly weighing her options. If I was willing to pay, it would save her trouble. But Daisy wasn't having it; she shrieked. "Teacher! Look, she's feeling guilty. If she didn't steal it, why is she so eager to pay it back?" "And this is a matter of character! If there's a thief in the class, today she steals my tuition, tomorrow will she steal more things?"

She cried and called her mom.

Not long after, Eleanor Mitchell arrived. She listened to the teacher's brief explanation, then turned and grabbed Daisy's ear, cursing: "You brat! You couldn't even keep track of your tuition money! Don't you know how long it took me to save that money? How many times have I told you to keep money on you? Do you have a brain?"

I stood there, stunned. This was the woman Ethan had loved to death back then? The first thought that came to my mind was disappointment. Her? What was Ethan's taste back then?

Daisy covered her ear, pointing at me: "It was her, she stole it!"

Eleanor turned to look at me, sizing me up. When she saw the designer labels on my clothes, her eyes changed. She looked down at me. "So you're the one who stole the money?" "Where are your parents? Teaching their child to be a thieving brat?"

I suppressed my anger: "I told you I didn't steal the money." "But if you need this money for tuition, I can pay for it upfront."

My words struck Eleanor Mitchell's sensitive and fragile nerve. Eleanor exploded on the spot. "You didn't steal it? If you didn't steal it, why are you paying it back? Aren't you just guilty?" "You're a thief! So young and already learning to steal things!" Finally, she sneered, stating definitively: "It must be you who stole it; maybe the money is in your backpack right now!"

With that, she snatched my backpack, spilling all its contents onto the floor with a clatter. I clenched my fists, watching my belongings get scattered, and held back. She turned it inside out, finding nothing, of course.

Eleanor wouldn't give up, narrowing her eyes at me: "You've hidden it on you, haven't you?"

I stepped back: "I told you, no."

She walked closer to me, disdainfully: "It's on you, you're just afraid I'll find it, aren't you?" What a joke! Of course, I wouldn't agree! But her hand shot out, grabbing my collar, her mouth spewing obscenities. "If you don't take it off, you're guilty! You little brat, hurry up!"

Her rough nails scraped my neck, burning. I'd never been so humiliated in my life. My temper instantly flared. To hell with old flames, to hell with enduring this. I lifted my foot and kicked her hard in the stomach.

"Get lost! You crazy hag!"

Eleanor looked utterly disbelieving. I fought back, scratching her. "Ah!" she cried out in pain, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the face. "You little brat! You dare hit back?"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps came from outside the classroom. I turned and saw Ethan Hayes, his face grim. I covered my face, saying nothing, feeling deeply guilty. Ethan had still come. He had still seen Eleanor.

And Eleanor, who was still grabbing my neck, suddenly released me. She instinctively ran a hand through her hair, flashing a shy smile.

Ethan strode in. He radiated an oppressive aura, with several men in black suits following behind him. Eleanor's eyes lit up when she saw Ethan. She dropped her shrewish demeanor, acting as if she were weak and helpless. Her voice was sweet and delicate: "Ethan..."