Chapter 2

2: 2

"Beep — fingerprint verification failed!"

The mechanical prompt went off right in my ear.

My whole mind went blank.

Someone had changed the door-lock permissions and deleted my fingerprint.

Linda Simmons was shaking with laughter, like a gamecock that had won outright.

"Can't even open the fingerprint lock, and you still dare say you own the place!"

"I think you've gone crazy from being poor!"

The neighbors watching burst into snickers, and the looks they gave me turned even more mocking and contemptuous.

"This old woman's got a hide thicker than a city wall. A minute ago she was actually putting on airs like she had every right."

They hadn't even finished their jeers.

I had already swiped open the sensor pad on the lock and briskly keyed in the entry code.

"Beep — verification passed! Welcome home!"

The moment the electronic voice sounded again.

The smile on Linda's face froze instantly.

The murmuring around us cut off all at once.

I stepped inside quickly and pulled open the bottom drawer of the console.

I dug out the government-issued ID with my own photo on it and slapped it down on the table.

"Take a good look. If this weren't my home, why would my ID be inside it?"

For the first time, that righteous crowd of neighbors hesitated.

Someone in the crowd muttered under their breath.

"Huh, it really is her."

"This place isn't actually hers, is it..."

Linda's face went white for an instant, then flushed red a moment later.

She threw back her voice, planted her hands on her hips, and pointed at me, cursing viciously.

"I get it now! You're that nanny who kept sending my husband flirty texts and got fired by him!"

"Take a look at your own wrinkled face and that old-lady smell all over you!"

"You threw yourself at him and no man would even take you, and now you've got the nerve to come back and cling on!"

The neighbors who had just wavered were pulled right back to her side.

"I've heard of young nannies climbing into bed, but I never thought an old one would be so shameless too."

"Old as she is and still wants to play the seductress. I've never seen anyone this shameless..."

Those words came flying like stones.

Each one heavier than the last.

Each one filthier than the last.

Something in my chest went cold, and a rage of unbearable humiliation surged straight up to my throat.

"I'll say it one more time. This is my house!"

"The owner is my child's father, and I'm calling him right now!"

Just as I reached for my phone, Linda suddenly snatched the clear document envelope from my hand, the one I'd just picked up at the hospital.

"A prenatal report?"

She pinched her voice thin, as if she were holding something filthy, her tone exaggerated.

"Oh my god! A bag of old bones and still this desperate?"

"Which wild man did you get this dirty little bastard from, coming to our house to shake us down for money?"

"Auntie, did you pay that wild man his emotional-damages compensation yet?"

Filth pouring out, no bottom line at all.

The watching neighbors erupted at once.

"Oh my god, this really opens my eyes! Old as she is and she's running a pregnancy scam!"

"The owner of Building 8 has such rotten luck."

Bucket after bucket of filth was hurled at me without mercy.

I cradled my belly, so sick with disgust that even my fingertips wouldn't stop shaking.

I truly couldn't stand it anymore, so I just pulled out my phone to call the police.

Linda was quick.

She rushed over and knocked the phone out of my hand.

The phone crashed to the floor, the screen shattering into pieces in an instant.

"You mistress — no, you old third wheel trying to worm your way up — and you still dare call the cops and play the victim?"

Mocking me for all she was worth, she reached out to yank up my shirt, wearing the confident air of someone who had seen through the whole scheme.

"Come on, come on, let me see how many months along that old body of yours is, whether the pillow you stuffed in there is big enough!"

My pupils shrank and I hunched over in a panic to shield my belly, dodging desperately.

"Don't touch my stomach!"

But Linda seized on the moment to grab a fistful of my hair and wrench it hard backward.

"Faking it! Keep faking it! Look at you, practically menopausal, and you've got the nerve to fake a pregnancy? Who do you think you're fooling!"

The neighbors around us chimed in one after another.

"Damn, is she faking a pregnancy to milk sympathy?"

"This old mistress is way too brazen. Can't she see the lady of the house is young and beautiful?"

"She's old enough to be his mother, pulling dirty tricks here, absolutely revolting!"

The cold malice wove into an airtight net and trapped me fast.

I was so furious my belly ached, and even my vision started going dark in waves.

At that moment, a security guard's voice came from outside.

"What's all this crowding and commotion? The owner's here!"

A lean, upright figure came striding in quickly behind the guard.

It was my son, Brandon Gilbert!