Chapter 4I Sued To Legally Disown My Perfect Daughter

"Hey! What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re here to sever ties with your daughter! Leave me out of your crazy drama!"

"Besides, I’m a changed man! Everyone rebels when they're young. Your daughter isn't fifteen, she’s thirty-five! She has the right to decide who she dates! What right do you have to interfere?"

His words spewed out like machine-gun fire.

I was here to sever ties with my daughter. I saw no reason to engage with a lowlife like him.

Seeing my silence, Mitch gave a sneering, knowing "Ohhh."

"I get it now. You haven't had any male attention in years, so you’re jealous your own daughter does. If you’re that desperate, Jo, go find someone! Don't lock your daughter up just because you can't stand seeing her happy."

A wave of titters and whispers ran through the Panel.

They furrowed their brows at his crude words, but I saw them slowly nodding in agreement.

Someone in the crowd chimed in.

"She’s right! The mother slandered her daughter, claiming she was dating in high school, and she's still interfering in college! She just can’t stand to see her daughter happy. Competing with your own child is disgusting."

"That mother is a control freak. This girl was totally messed up by that home, yet she still doesn't want to sever ties! If it were me, I’d have cut her off years ago."

"I can tell by her face she’s the kind of mother who will sleep between the bride and groom on their wedding night."

Daisy just sat there listening, neither confirming nor denying, a calculated look in her eyes.

The tidal wave of condemnation grew louder. I bit my lip, my fingertips curling. I tried to stand to defend myself, but the room went black, and I collapsed back into the sofa.

Daisy was instantly at my side, her eyes red, her voice choked with sobs.

"Please, please don't say those things."

"Yes, my mother secretly hid Mitch’s boxers and tore up our photos, but she didn’t mean to hurt us! She’s just so lonely…"

That one sentence launched me right into the eye of the storm.

I was like a criminal in ancient times, paraded through the streets—cursed, spat on, and shamed by everyone. Someone in the chaotic crowd actually spat toward me.

Daisy turned back to me, smiling sickeningly. She patted my hand, her voice syrupy sweet. "It’s okay, Mom. Everyone understands."

The curses, the mockery—it was all behind a thick pane of glass. I was alone, hearing only the frantic drumming of my own heart.

Something inside me fractured in that moment.

I violently shook off her hand, raising my voice to reclaim the space. "Daisy Miller, you also got the second question wrong."

The smile froze on her face. She quickly reverted to her pitiful, vulnerable look.

"The final question," I said, my hand trembling as I held the microphone.

"Why have I not spoken a single word to you in ten years?"

She didn't hesitate. "Because I married Mitch Sullivan."

I shook my head slowly. "Yes, and no."

Daisy’s fingers clenched the armrests of the wheelchair. Her voice was laced with impatience.

"What do you want, Mom? Are you going to be satisfied with anything I say?"

"If Dad knew how you were treating me today, he would hate you."

The rigid wall I’d built up since entering the courtroom finally cracked. The tears I’d held back for so long flooded my eyes. With shaking hands, I pushed the button on the remote to play the security footage.

Everyone gasped at the scene that appeared on the screen.