Chapter 3

A quiet week passed.

My daughter occasionally shared fun stories from school, and my anxious heart finally relaxed.

It was precisely at this moment.

Ring ring ring.

My phone rang persistently.

I saw it was my daughter calling, and an ominous feeling arose.

Sure enough, as soon as I answered, I heard my daughter's tearful voice: "Mom, please come pick me up.

I don't want to go to school anymore.

I want to come home.

Mom, please let me come home..."

My heart jumped.

My daughter had always been so sensible.

For her to say this, something terrible must have happened.

I rushed to the school in a panic.

The moment I entered the classroom, the originally noisy room fell eerily silent for an instant.

Then everyone looked at my daughter and me with strange eyes, occasionally turning away to whisper: "That must be her mom, dressed so slutty.

Maybe her mom gave her that infectious disease."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard her dad got so disgusted he left.

Who knows where they get their money from."

"Ew!

So shameless.

Miller was right.

Both of them have that kind of contagious disease.

My mom says that disease is so dirty.

We need to stay away from them.

It's terrifying."

My daughter looked up with a sob, her eyes swollen red from crying.

The classmates immediately burst into laughter.

My daughter's waist-length hair had been chopped into a ragged mess, and chewed gum was stuck to the top of her head.

I quickly shielded my daughter and flew into a rage, slamming my hand on the desk and demanding: "Who did this?"

Several kids giggled and shoved each other, completely unconcerned: "We all did it together!

You did this kind of thing and you still have the nerve to ask?"

"Think you can buy us off with a few snacks?

No way."

"Hurry up and get your daughter out of this school.

This class doesn't welcome her!"

My blood rushed to my head.

I charged forward, ready to slap them hard across the face and teach them a lesson on behalf of their parents.

The instant I raised my hand, Miller, who'd been absent until now, conveniently appeared.

She grabbed my wrist and said leisurely: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's this parent doing?

Trying to hit someone else's child?

This is a school, not a marketplace.

It's not a place for you to throw tantrums."

Miller watched smugly as those kids ran behind her to tattle, as if she'd once again caught me in the act.

She made a show of starting to scold me for not being a qualified parent.

"This parent, I advise you to calm down, or I'll have to call the police."

My heart was bleeding, but my extreme anger actually made me calmer.

I looked calmly at the gloating smiles on everyone's faces: "Making up vicious rumors about my daughter and me without any evidence.

As a teacher, is this your attitude toward educating students?"

Miller frowned slightly.

She shook her head for a moment before putting on an innocent act: "Children certainly don't lie, but they do have vivid imaginations.

They inevitably say things that don't match reality.

Do I really need to verify every single word they say?"

"Flies don't land on uncracked eggs.

Sometimes people should spend less time blaming others and more time reflecting on themselves."

"Besides, I manage dozens of students.

Of course I can only pay extra attention to the ones who behave well, right?"

I stared at her expressionlessly for a moment, realizing she was determined to get revenge for my not buying her that watch.

She wanted me to back down.

I suddenly lowered my head and softened my tone: "Miller, I didn't think it through.

Actually, the opening day gift and the snacks can be delivered this afternoon.

I'll personally hand them to you."

Seeing me finally come around, Miller felt the frustration that had been building in her chest for days finally dissipate somewhat.

She waved her hand in satisfaction: "Fine!

Then I'll be magnanimous and not hold this against you."

I smiled gently, calmly switching the snack order to watermelons.

That afternoon, ten large trucks loaded with watermelons rumbled toward the school.

The trucks displayed prominent banners reading: "Day One of Miller Treating the Whole School to Snacks."