Chapter 4

When the doctor finally came out of the operating room, I nearly collapsed with relief.

It had been a ruptured corpus luteum with internal bleeding. If we had arrived fifteen minutes later, Chloe could have suffered fatal septic shock.

Thinking of Ms. Miller's twisted smile, a cold fury settled in my chest. She wasn't getting away with this.

After borrowing the doctor's phone to make an urgent call, I stepped back into the waiting area and overheard an older woman gossiping beside me.

"Look at this, Evelyn," she clicked her tongue, holding up her phone. "Girls these days... this one looks about your daughter's age. Pregnant, and forced herself to run until she miscarried on the field! If she were my kid, I'd die of shame."

The video was an aerial shot taken from the school building. It showed a teenage girl running on the track, blood staining the back of her shorts, cutting off right as she collapsed.

The older woman scrolled down. "And that poor teacher got dragged through the mud!"

The next video was Ms. Miller. She sat in front of the camera, tears streaming down her face like a martyr.

"I only wanted to steer her away from bad influences," she sobbed into the lens. "She wouldn't listen. When she got into trouble, she tried to abort the baby by running laps until she passed out."

"Why did she have to be so reckless? Why couldn't she talk to me? Even if she hates me, she shouldn't destroy her own future. Senior year is so crucial..."

The woman shook her head. "Just completely shameless."

Ms. Miller's voice continued through the phone speaker: "Chloe, I pray you're safe. I promise I won't be mad at you anymore for spreading dirty rumors about me..."

The woman blinked. "Chloe? Wait, that name sounds familiar. Evelyn, isn't your daughter named..."

My expression darkened. Ms. Miller was weaponizing public outrage to permanently destroy Chloe's reputation.

The woman trailed off awkwardly. "Oh... Evelyn, I was just reading what was online. Don't take it to heart..."

I hurried back to Chloe's recovery room, only to find the hallway packed with people.

A hysterical, familiar voice echoed from inside:

"Chloe, it's all my fault! Just please don't make the school fire me!"

It was Ms. Miller. She was standing on the ledge of the third-floor hospital window, looking fragile yet defiant.

"I'm just an ordinary teacher! I did what was right! You shouldn't have been sleeping around at your age!"

"But since your family has money and power, I'll pay for my 'mistake' with my life!"

Reporters were hiding in the crowd, cameras flashing non-stop.

A teacher driven to suicide by a wealthy, reckless student? The ledge was low; she knew she wouldn't die from a third-floor fall. But the stunt would cement Chloe as a monster, while Ms. Miller would emerge as a saint who sacrificed everything for her students.

She was using Chloe as a stepping stone to internet fame.

"Get down from there!" I shouted, pushing through the crowd.

Suddenly, Ms. Miller's foot slipped.

She looked back at Chloe sitting on the hospital bed, flashing a triumphant smirk.

"No!" I screamed.

"Mom, I love you!"

Chloe lunged forward and grabbed Ms. Miller's arm. But the sudden weight dragged Chloe straight over the windowsill.

My mind went completely blank.

Ms. Miller fell backward onto the hospital floor, trembling in real terror. "It wasn't me! She jumped on her own! She tried to drag me down, it has nothing to do with me!"

I grabbed her by the collar, slamming her against the wall. "If anything happens to my daughter, you are dead."

Outside the door, reporters kept their cameras rolling, whispering excitedly:

"These rich kids have zero mental resilience. One critique and she jumps?"

"Typical teenage drama."

"This headline is going to break the internet."

I memorized every single press badge in that room. Vultures feeding on a child's blood.

By some miracle, Chloe landed on an awning on the second floor before tumbling onto the safety bushes below, sustaining only minor scrapes and bruises.

God was on our side.

After ensuring Chloe was safe, I checked Twitter and TikTok.

"I know her. Chloe Vance. Total attention seeker. She was always flirting with every guy in class."

"I used to book her. Two hundred a night."

The vile comments poured in endlessly, paired with the heavily edited clips the reporters had uploaded.

They had conveniently cropped out Chloe saving the teacher, positioning the camera angle to make it look like Chloe had shoved Ms. Miller before jumping herself.

I took Chloe home that evening, only to find our front gate covered in red spray paint.

"SLUT'S DEN" was plastered across our door. Chloe began shaking uncontrollably.

I covered her eyes. "Don't look, baby. Mom will fix everything."

"Boss! You're finally back!"

My executive assistant rushed over, her face pale with anxiety. "Someone found your phone at the school and returned it to the office. Boss, the mob has tracked down our company. Our stock is taking a hit!"

I unlocked my phone. Two background audio recordings were sitting in my cloud drive, captured before the phone died.

A cold smile crept onto my lips.

"Notify the entire legal department. Mandatory overtime tonight. Triple pay."