Chapter 3

The neighbors murmured among themselves.

"Even her own father wants nothing to do with her. Women like that should be run out — she'll drag everyone else's reputation down."

"Who knows who she'll go after next. Get rid of her. Get rid of both of them!"

Hands grabbed at our hair with no good intentions, dragging my mom and me across the ground like we weighed nothing.

Some of the women decided that wasn't enough. They picked up scalding bowls of food from the table and threw them at us.

I dug my fingers into the ground, nails torn back, bleeding, using my body to shield my mom from the rotten eggs being thrown at her.

My aunt covered her nose in disgust, bent down, and spat on me.

She reached out, tore the gold necklace from my mom's neck, and fastened it around her own throat with a look of pure satisfaction.

"Finally, I don't have to sneak around to wear it."

Barely conscious, I heard my aunt muttering to herself.

"Sweetie, some people are just born to lose. Married well and still couldn't hold on to it."

The raw red marks across my mom's neck made my eyes burn.

I don't know where I found the strength, but I screamed and launched myself at my aunt, fighting her with everything I had.

In the chaos, her jacket was torn open.

And there on her shoulder — three moles, identical to my mom's.

My aunt panicked. She cursed and aimed her sharp nails straight at my eyes.

A burst of searing pain, and everything in front of me turned red.

My phone was still going crazy — all calls from my dad.

I ignored the pain, grabbed the phone, and fired off a quick message to my dad, then dialed emergency services.

I could barely get the words out, but I'd just finished giving the address when my aunt's heel came down and crushed my phone screen.

"She's trying to call the cops!"

Her voice was shrill and vicious.

"Renee, you want to ruin all of us? How could you be so heartless?"

"Your mom messed around with some guy, and we didn't even push her to name names. The adults in this family are trying to protect what little dignity you two have left — can't you see that?"

The women who had been watching from the sidelines went pale when they heard that.

One by one, shoes came down on my hand. A crack. My fingers broke.

I clutched my hand to my chest, rolling on the ground in agony, tears and blood mixing on my face.

When my mom heard my screaming, she wrenched herself free from the men holding her and threw herself over me.

My grandfather's cane came down hard across her back.

"That's what you get for running around behind your husband's back!"

My mom's choked denials were swallowed up by the fists and kicks raining down on her, but she only held me tighter.

Dust and tears caked my face. I kept begging them to stop, which only made the blows harder.

Jason's excitement peaked as he locked the camera on my mom's face.

"Yeah, yeah — her name's Chloe Hartley, lives at — her ID number is — someone in the comments just dug up her phone number too, nice work!"

"Heh, I've got a whole collection of her private photos. I'll drop them in the fan group later. Enjoy, fellas."

The blood in my veins went cold.

Jason's followers had found my mom's personal information and put it online.

His fat lips kept moving. "Trending — we're trending — hahaha, my livestream is trending!"

A few of the younger guys shoved their way up next to Jason.

"Bro, you're about to blow up! Don't forget about us when you make it big!"

Jason laughed and waved them off, then reached toward my mom's clothes, shoving his camera down toward her neckline.

"Please — Jason, please stop filming, please—"

My mom's voice was so weak I could barely hear her.

I growled through my teeth, pushed past the agony of my broken fingers, and smashed Jason's phone out of his hand.

The screen crackled, flickered twice, and went dead.

"My stream!"

A kick slammed into my chest. Jason's thick hands closed around my throat.

"You little brat — I'll kill you for that!"

My aunt laughed with satisfaction.

"Strip them and throw them out on the street. Let's see if they ever show their faces around here again."

The crowd tore at our clothes. Scraps of fabric littered the ground, and Jason's hand was already reaching toward my mom.

I clawed at him desperately, but I was thrown back.

Then, in the next second, Jason was yanked off the ground by two hands.

AA fist connected with his face — savage, deliberate — and a voice came through clenched teeth.

"You're the one spreading lies about my wife?"