Part 3The Billionaire's Heir and the Forgotten Girl

"Does your daughter have violent tendencies?" Ms. Evans's voice was shrill. "Look at what she did to Leo!"

Leo immediately let out a few groans, pretending to be in a lot of pain.

Ms. Evans spoke gently to him: "Be a good boy, Leo. I called your dad, he'll be here soon."

My mom, with her left arm in a cast, was still wearing the green vest from the convenience store and a cheap hat with the store's logo. She seemed to have rushed over, her bangs blown into a mess.

She glanced at me and said anxiously, "Audrey is usually very well-behaved. She wouldn't hit someone for no reason."

Ms. Evans raised her voice: "Are you saying I'm falsely accusing your daughter?"

"That's not what I mean," my mom said quickly. "I just want to hear the children explain what happened."

"Audrey," Ms. Evans turned to me coldly, "Tell me yourself, what did you do wrong?"

I stubbornly kept my mouth shut.

Ms. Evans seemed infuriated. "Fine, if you won't say it, I will."

"You don't follow discipline when lining up."

"The other students don't like you. You have no ability to integrate into the group."

"And now you've even learned to beat up your classmates."

"Just now when I asked you, you didn't say a word. You've learned how to be deceitful too."

"Let me ask you, do you even respect me as your homeroom teacher?"

My mom looked at me, her lips moving: "Ms. Evans, there might be some misunderstanding..."

Ms. Evans let out a contemptuous smile: "Since you insist on turning a blind eye to your daughter's mistakes, I have nothing more to say."

She slammed her thermos onto the desk. "I can't teach her. You should find a better teacher. Go ask around and see which homeroom teacher in this school is willing to take her. Transfer her out immediately."

At these words, my mom's face turned completely white.

Although she usually didn't act like a typical strict mother, she was very serious about my education.

Usually, if I scored below an 80 on a test, she wouldn't hesitate to give me a spanking.

Not to mention, education had always been more important than life itself to her.

"No, please." My mom panicked, begging her, "Ms. Evans, please give Audrey another chance. She's young, she doesn't know any better."

Ms. Evans turned her head, snorted coldly, and faced the wall.

My mom continued to beg bitterly, saying everything she could to appease her.

But no matter what my mom said, Ms. Evans just told her to find someone else to take me.

But in a school, which homeroom teacher would accept a student another teacher rejected?

"Please have a little mercy." My mom raised her injured arm. "I promise I will properly discipline Audrey when we go home. Please don't give up on her."

Ms. Evans turned back, but still picked at her: "How can I trust you?"

My mom paused, as if making a firm decision: "Ms. Evans, I work long hours and don't have time to pay attention to Audrey's mental state. She's always alone, and there's no one to teach her right from wrong."

It was the first time I saw my mom speak so seriously. I stared at her blankly.

My mom gripped the armrest of a chair and slowly knelt down, pleading once more: "Ms. Evans, the person at fault is actually me, her mother. I didn't raise her well; it's not Audrey's fault. Please, give her another chance."

After she spoke, her usually thin, straight shoulders slumped deeply.

I stared at her in shock.

This woman, who was usually always joking and informal, was my mother; this woman, kneeling on the floor, humbling herself and begging the teacher not to abandon me, was my mother; this woman, who taught me to be an upright person and to study hard, was my mother...

A hard life had never crushed her, but at this moment, she surrendered her dignity for my sake.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. I immediately hugged her shoulders and knelt down beside her.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. Mom, it's not your fault."

I had never felt such intense regret for doing something. Tears streamed from my eyes, and I felt my heart breaking into pieces.

Ms. Evans also seemed startled. She lowered her voice: "I didn't mean..."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Evans," I cried too. "I promise I'll never hit anyone again."

Amidst the commotion, Leo suddenly shouted excitedly: "Dad, you're finally here."

Ms. Evans jumped, hurriedly pushed us away, bent down, and quickly touched up her lipstick using a small mirror on the desk.

The first thing I heard was a cold voice:

"Leo, tell me yourself, what kind of trouble did you cause this time?"

The office door was pushed open. The footsteps drew closer, and the man's voice seemed tinged with fatigue and annoyance:

"Confess right now, before I have to make you."

I felt my mom's body stiffen. She turned her head to look, then immediately lowered it, as if she had seen something unbelievable.

For a moment, I felt like she wanted to hide under the desk.

"Mr. Vance." Ms. Evans stood up, beaming. "You misunderstand. Today, Leo was the one who was bullied. Don't be too hard on him."

The man stopped casually behind her: "Bullied by who?"

"Her." Ms. Evans pointed at me, sighing. "There's something wrong with this girl's head."

I didn't dare to argue, I could only turn around, prostrating myself on the floor, and say, "I'm sorry."

The man squatted down. He looked at the bruises on Leo's face, his tone completely flat: "Got beat up? Does it hurt?"

Leo quickly let out a pathetic "Mhm."

The man frowned, but said mercilessly: "Useless."

After criticizing Leo, his sharp eyes swept over me: "A young girl who likes to use her fists. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

Stared down by his dark, gloomy eyes, I almost burst into tears again, so I bit my lip hard.

"She really wasn't raised right," Ms. Evans quickly added. "I just reprimanded her, and her mom knelt down to apologize. Sigh... Mr. Vance, how do you think we should handle this?"

"How should we handle this?" Mr. Vance slowly repeated the words, and anyone could hear the icy tone in his voice.

Hearing this, I immediately straightened up, frantically grabbed the hem of his suit jacket, and said: "Mister, I didn't mean it, I swear, I will never mess with him again."

Mr. Vance looked down at me, suddenly frowning.

He pinched my chin with one hand, his gaze even revealing a bit of confusion and bewilderment: "Why do you... look so much like..."

He didn't finish his sentence. After a long silence, he just shook his head: "Ms. Evans, forget it."

Leo started screaming: "How can we just forget it?"

"Then what do you want?" Mr. Vance's tone grew a bit impatient.

"I want Audrey to apologize to me in front of the whole class tomorrow." Leo's little mouth babbled on. "And last time she mocked me for not having a mom."

Mr. Vance's face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, while my mom's face went completely pale. She secretly glanced at Leo, her eyes a mix of pain and inner conflict.

She seemed to want to say something but bit her lip, burying her head even lower, her body trembling slightly.

I was a bit worried and quickly squeezed my mom's hand.

"Enough, you little brat," Mr. Vance raised his hand and grabbed Leo's collar. "I think you really are asking for a beating."

"Getting beat up by a little girl is embarrassing enough, and you want the whole class to laugh at you?"

Ms. Evans seemed surprised that the matter was dropping so easily. She pursed her lips and said: "Since Mr. Vance isn't pursuing the matter, Audrey's mom, you should apologize to him."

My mom didn't say a word, trembling even more violently.

Ms. Evans waited, growing impatient: "Audrey's mom? Does muteness run in your family?"

Mr. Vance finally seemed to notice there was a woman kneeling on the floor. He casually turned his head, and with just one glance, he froze.

He let go of Leo's collar and stood up instantly.

"I'm sorry," my mom finally said softly, her head still buried low.

The man parted his lips, seemingly using a great deal of effort just to call out a name: "Chloe... is that you?"

I didn't know how he knew my mom's name.

"You have the wrong person." My mom immediately turned her face away, but her left hand in the cast clenched painfully into a fist, as if she were enduring something.

"It is you." Mr. Vance stared fixedly at my mom, his facial expression a mix of crying and laughing, hatred and joy, his whole face twisting terribly.

"Chloe—"

He seemed to chew on the name, his eyes glued to my mom. "When did you get back?"

My mom turned her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

Even Ms. Evans realized something was wrong, her face changing instantly: "Do you know her, Mr. Vance?"

"Know her? Far more than that." He seemed furious, unable to bear it any longer, and pulled my mom up from the floor with one hand.

"Eight years since we last saw each other, and you're this pathetic, ridiculous mess?"

"Chloe, I used to treat you like a princess, terrified of you getting hurt. And you're f***ing kneeling to someone here today?"

"Chloe, whose face are you disgracing right now?"

"Get up!"

Once my mom was pulled up, she quickly grabbed my hand, as if trying to rush me out of there.

But Mr. Vance still firmly gripped my mom's slender wrist.

In front of everyone, this tall, intimidating man's eyes actually grew red: "Chloe, we haven't seen each other in so many years, and you won't even look up at me?"

He seemed to realize something and suddenly looked at me: "How old are you?"

Inexplicably, I met a pair of eyes filled with disbelief. The owner of those eyes spoke angrily: "Chloe, is she our—"

"Audrey is seven this year," my mom interrupted. "She's my daughter with my husband. Carter Vance, she has nothing to do with you."

She paused, her voice seemingly suppressing immense pain as she continued: "And you have no right to question me now, whether I'm a beggar or anything else."

I nervously glanced between them.

Actually, I'm eight this year.

I don't know why my mom lied about my age.

But I figured my mom must have her reasons.

After hearing her words, Mr. Vance asked, crestfallen:

"You... got married?"