Chapter 3Unspoken Apologies

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

Connor immediately let out a whimper, pretending to be in extreme pain.

Ms. Evans turned to him, her voice turning gentle. "Connor, be a good boy. I called your dad; he's on his way."

My mom had her left arm in a sling. She was still wearing the green vest from the convenience store, and a cheap baseball cap with the store's logo. She looked like she had rushed over; her bangs were blown into a messy tangle.

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

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

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

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

I stubbornly pressed my lips together.

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

"When lining up to go home, you broke the rules."

"Your classmates don't like you. You have absolutely no ability to integrate into the group."

"And now you've resorted to assaulting a classmate."

"Earlier, when I asked you, you wouldn't say a word. You've even started being deceitful."

"I'm asking you, do you have any respect for me as your homeroom teacher?"

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

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

She firmly placed her thermos on her desk. "I can't teach her. You need to find another teacher. Go ask around yourself and see which homeroom teacher in this school is willing to take her, and transfer her out immediately."

My mom turned pale as soon as she heard that.

Although she wasn't a very conventional mother, she was extremely strict when it came to education.

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

To her, education was more important than her own life.

"That's not true." My mom was starting to panic. She pleaded, "Ms. Evans, please give Chloe one more chance. She's young; she doesn't know better."

Ms. Evans turned her head away, let out a cold hmph, and faced the wall.

My mom continued to plead bitterly, saying almost everything she could think of.

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

But in a school, what homeroom teacher would willingly take a student that someone else rejected?

"Please, have some mercy." My mom raised her injured arm. "I will discipline Chloe properly when we get home. Please don't give up on her."

Ms. Evans turned back, but still spoke critically, "How can I trust you?"

My mom paused, as if making up her mind. "Ms. Evans, I'm usually very busy with work and don't have time to pay attention to Chloe's mental state. She's always been alone, and no one taught her what she should or shouldn't do."

I stared at my mom, stunned. It was the first time I had ever seen her speak so formally.

But my mom gripped the armrest of a chair, slowly knelt onto the floor, and pleaded once more. "Ms. Evans, the person who made the mistake is actually me, her mother. I failed to raise her right; it's not Chloe's fault. Please, give her one more chance."

As she spoke, her shoulders, which were usually thin but straight, hunched forward deeply.

I stared at her, paralyzed.

This was my mom—the woman who was usually joking around, never taking anything seriously; the woman who was kneeling on the floor, humbling herself to beg the teacher not to give up on me; the woman who taught me to be an honest person and to work hard in my studies...

A difficult life had never crushed her, but at this moment, she surrendered her dignity for me.

I couldn't hold on any longer. I immediately hugged my mom's shoulders and knelt down beside her.

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

I had never regretted anything so much in my life. Tears poured from my eyes, and I felt like my heart was breaking into pieces.

Ms. Evans seemed startled too, and she lowered her voice. "That's not what I meant..."

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

Amidst the commotion, Connor suddenly yelled excitedly, "Dad, you're finally here."

Ms. Evans was startled. She quickly pushed us aside, bent over, and hurriedly applied lipstick using a small mirror on her desk.

The first thing I heard was a cold voice:

"Connor, tell me yourself, what trouble have you caused this time?"

The office door was pushed open, and footsteps approached from a distance. The man's voice seemed to carry a mix of exhaustion and annoyance:

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

I felt my mom's body stiffen. She turned her head for a glance, 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. Hayes." Ms. Evans stood up with a radiant smile. "You misunderstood. Connor was the one being bullied today. Please don't scold him."

The man stopped casually behind her. "Who bullied him?"

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

I didn't dare argue back. I could only turn around, lay prostrate on the floor, and say, "I'm sorry."

The man crouched down. He looked at the bruises on Connor's face, his tone completely flat. "You got beat up? Does it hurt?"

Connor quickly let out a pitiful "Mhm."

The man frowned, yet said mercilessly, "Useless."

After criticizing Connor, his sharp eyes swept toward me. "A little girl, getting into fights at such a young age. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

I was glared at by his dark, menacing eyes, almost scared to tears again, and could only bite my lip tightly.

"She really lacks proper upbringing at home," Ms. Evans quickly interjected. "I've already lectured her, and her mother even knelt down to apologize. Sigh... Mr. Hayes, how do you think we should handle this?"

"How to handle it?" The man slowly repeated the question, his voice dripping with unmistakable coldness.

Hearing this, I immediately sat up, scrambled forward blindly, and grabbed the hem of his suit jacket. "Sir, I didn't mean to. I swear, I'll never bother him again."

Mr. Hayes looked down at me, suddenly frowning.

With one hand, he pinched my chin, his gaze revealing a mix 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, let it go."

Connor, however, shrieked, "How can we just let it go?"

"Then what do you want?" Mr. Hayes's tone was impatient.

"I want Chloe to apologize to me in front of the whole class tomorrow." Connor rattled on. "She also mocked me for not having a mom last time."

Mr. Hayes's face turned dark as a storm cloud, while my mom's face went completely white. She sneakily glanced at Connor, her eyes filled with pain and 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 tightly.

"Enough, you little brat." Mr. Hayes raised his hand and grabbed Connor by the 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 completely surprised that the matter would be dropped so easily. She pursed her lips and said, "Since Mr. Hayes isn't pursuing it, Chloe's mom, you should apologize to Mr. Hayes."

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

Ms. Evans was getting impatient. "Chloe's mom? Does muteness run in your family?"

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

He released his grip on Connor's collar and stood up instantly.

"I'm sorry." My mom finally spoke softly, her head still buried low.

The man's lips parted, as if it took all his strength to call out a name: "Sarah... is that you?"

I had no idea how he knew my mom's name.

"You've mistaken me for someone else." My mom immediately turned her face away, but her left hand, trapped in the cast, agonizingly clenched into a fist, as if enduring something terrible.

"It's you." Mr. Hayes stared fixedly at my mom. The expression on his face was indiscernible—whether he was crying or laughing, hateful or joyous, his entire face twisted terribly.

"Sarah—"

He seemed to chew the name up, his eyes locked onto my mom. "When did you get back?"

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

Even Ms. Evans noticed something was wrong. Her face changed instantly. "Does Mr. Hayes know her?"

"More than know her." He seemed utterly furious, unable to hold back any longer. He grabbed my mom with one hand and pulled her up from the floor.

"Eight years since we last saw each other, and this is how you look? Poor and pathetic?"

"Sarah, I treated you like a princess back then. I was terrified you'd melt if I didn't hold you tight enough, and today you're kneeling on the fucking floor?"

"Whose pride are you trashing right now?"

"Get up!"

After pulling my mom up, she immediately grabbed my hand, looking like she wanted to drag me away as fast as possible.

But Mr. Hayes maintained a tight grip on my mom's thin wrist.

Under everyone's gaze, this tall, imposing man's eyes actually grew red-rimmed. "Sarah, after all these years, won't you even look at me?"

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

I nervously darted my eyes between the two of them.

I was actually eight years old.

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

But I figured she must have had her reasons.

Mr. Hayes, hearing her answer, looked devastated.

"You... you got married?"