Chapter 3

That evening, as I arrived home, I saw a brand-new BMW X2 without license plates parked outside.

When I stepped inside, Charlotte was there, smiling sweetly as she handed me my slippers. “Welcome home, Mom. You must be tired from work.”

Looking at her fake smile, I wanted nothing more than to slap her again, but I had to restrain myself until I had all the facts.

“Did your dad buy you the car?” I asked coolly.

“Mom, I didn’t want it, but Dad insisted. There wasn’t anything I could do,” she said, putting on her most innocent expression.

"I’ve canceled your supplementary card. From now on, I’ll give you $1,000 a month for household expenses. If you need to buy anything big, just let me know and I’ll get it for you."

“What’s that supposed to mean? Our daughter got into Yale, doesn’t she deserve a reward?” Jack stormed over, his face red with anger.

I nearly exposed them right then and there.

230 points. That pathetic score wouldn’t get her into Yale in a million years.

But I held back.

“I’m only thinking of her. She’s still young and just got her driver’s license. What if she gets into an accident? Then what? Am I supposed to bury my own daughter?” I asked, pretending to be concerned.

Jack slammed his fist on the table and leaped up. “How dare you curse my daughter?”

In that moment, I was absolutely certain—Charlotte was Jack’s biological daughter.

“I’m not cursing her. I’m just worried for her safety.”

“Hmph. You’re just too cheap to spend money,” Jack sneered.

“Mom, did you get upset because Dad used your money to buy me a car?” Charlotte immediately went into victim mode, her eyes welling up with tears.

I gently patted her head and said, “How could I be upset about spending money on you? I’m just worried about your driving skills. If something happened to you, how could I go on living?”

If they could play their games, so could I.

“Mom, I got into Yale, one of the best universities in the country! Any other mother would have thrown a massive party and showered me with gifts, but you haven’t done anything. Do you not love me anymore?” she cried, her acting flawless.

Her performance was nothing short of brilliant.

I continued patting her head and replied, “Well, these days, the country promotes frugality. Throwing a party would be wasteful. Besides, it’s important to stay humble. Being too flashy will only make others jealous. As for gifts, isn’t that BMW a gift?”

“Mom, you don’t love me anymore! You don’t understand! The car isn’t for showing off or making my life easier. It’s because I want to fulfill a dream—I want to take you on a road trip, across the country, to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Charlotte, I appreciate your sentiment, but doesn’t something feel off?”

“What’s off?” she asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Shouldn’t you be the one earning the money to buy the car and take me on a road trip? It’s like saying you’re going to treat me to a meal, but then I end up paying for it. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

She froze, clearly unable to come up with a rebuttal.

"Emma Richardson, how can you call yourself a mother? How could you crush your daughter’s loving intentions like this?" Jack said, sending Charlotte a quick wink.

“Mom, you’re being so cruel. You don’t love me anymore…” Charlotte wailed as she stormed out of the house.

“Charlotte, wait!” Jack followed after her.

Suddenly, I remembered the notice at the entrance of our building: Last night, the surveillance cameras were damaged. Repairs are underway. Please secure your belongings and lock your doors.

Were they trying to set me up?

With the cameras down and no witnesses, they could easily frame me for something.

The thought sent a chill down my spine. I immediately called my assistant, Claire, who lived just a mile away.

Then I phoned five of my employees and told them there was an emergency meeting at my place and that they should come as quickly as possible. I’d cover their cab fare.

By 9 p.m., I heard the door open and stepped out of the study.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you. You didn’t go out looking for Charlotte?”

“She’s not a child anymore. She can take care of herself.”

“What kind of mother are you? How can you be so heartless?”

“We can’t protect her forever. She has to walk her own path,” I said coolly.

After another ten minutes of bickering, Charlotte burst back into the house, looking frantic.

She immediately dropped to her knees in front of me. “Mom, I was in a hit-and-run accident! Please, you have to take the blame for me. Save me! I just got into Yale. My life is just beginning—I can’t go to prison!”

Hearing those familiar words made my blood boil. I wanted to strangle her on the spot.

In my previous life, I had been such a fool to take the blame for her.

“Charlotte, don’t be afraid. Don’t worry,” I said, faking concern as I pulled her into my arms, comforting her.

“Mom, will you help me?” she asked, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear.

“Of course I’ll help you. You’re my precious daughter.”

“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t abandon me! I swear, when you get out of prison, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be the best daughter.”

“Prison? What prison?” I pushed her away, feigning surprise.

“Mom, didn’t you say you’d help me? Didn’t you say you’d take the blame?” she asked, her voice full of confusion.

“When I said I’d help, I meant I’d hire you the best lawyer. We’ll fight for leniency,” I said, smiling sweetly.

Charlotte’s jaw dropped.

“Emma, this is all your fault! If you hadn’t upset Charlotte, she wouldn’t have run off, and none of this would have happened. You should take responsibility and go to prison for her,” Jack said, his voice full of righteous indignation.

“And why don’t you take the blame for your daughter, Jack? Listen, Charlotte, your father is just a stay-at-home dad. A few years in prison won’t be a big deal for him. But your mom? I run a company. I’m the one making the money. If I go to prison, who’s going to pay for your education?”

Jack’s face turned beet red, and he had nothing to say.

“Mom, Dad can’t take the blame for me. After I hit that woman, I got out of the car to check on her, but she grabbed my ankle. I screamed—she didn’t see me, but she definitely heard my voice.”

I sighed and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Charlotte, you need to stop running from this. Take responsibility for what you did. Go turn yourself in. You’re still young, a few years in prison won’t ruin your life. And don’t worry, you’ll always have me. When you get out, you can work at my company.”

Her mouth hung open in shock. How could the woman who once loved her more than anything suddenly seem so… indifferent?