2
I ate my breakfast as normal.
When Mark was about to take our daughter
to school, I stopped him.
“Her hair’s a little messy, let me brush it.”
I took my daughter to the bathroom, shut the
door, and lifted her shirt.
Her body was smooth, not a single bruise.
Completely different from the scarred body I
remembered.
So, where did it all go wrong?
Why was she covered in injuries just hours
<
“Hon, are you done in there? She’s going to
be late.”
Mark knocked on the door, hurrying me.
I opened it, looking at Mark, “I’ll take her to
school today.”
Mark seemed confused, but smiled, “Okay, if
you want, honey.”
He turned and started clearing the table
without saying another word.
His behavior was so normal, it didn’t seem
suspicious.
But that made me even more desperate to
find the truth.
<
As I drove my daughter to school, I asked her,
“Hey, sweetie, has anyone been bothering you
at school?”
My daughter replied with a smile, “No, I am
really popular, everyone wants to play with
me.”
I paused, then continued, “What about your teachers? How do they treat you?”
“They’re all nice, the head teacher always tells me stories and gives me presents.”
My daughter’s reply was quick, her little face showing only joy.
I parked the car and looked at her, “What
about Mommy? How does Mommy treat you?”
<
Her bright eyes widened and she said
immediately, “You treat me really well,
Mommy.”
Then she kissed me on the cheek.
“I love you the most!”
I hugged her tight, not saying anything else.
Then I drove her to her school.
Her teacher was waiting outside.
“Hey, Mrs. Jones, what a nice surprise seeing
you here.”
The teacher smiled at me, taking my
daughter’s hand.
<
“Oh, my schedule is light today.”
I smiled back, and observed the teacher.
She smiled, and then crouched down, tickling
my daughter’s nose.
“Look how much your mom loves you, she’s
here with you even though she’s so busy.”
Her performance was friendly and sincere.
Even her eyes seemed to express pure love.
She didn’t seem like a two–faced
manipulator.
That made me more confused.
<
In the last life, I had a decent relationship with
the teacher.
She was kind, and great with the kids.
I’d often tried to treat her to lunch to thank
her for taking such good care of my daughter.
But she always refused, saying that she was
just doing her job and that she didn’t need
anything extra.
I thought she was a truly good teacher, fair
and diligent.
But just a few hours later, she publicly
accused me of being a cruel mom who was
abusing my daughter.
I really couldn’t understand what went wrong.
