Chapter 78 – The Clash at Dawn

3rd POV

Finally, the day was over. That was Mannie’s only thought as the last of the children drifted off to sleep.

Their soft breathing filled the room, and for the first time that night, silence settled like a warm blanket. She sat there for a while, watching their tiny faces in the dim light.

Peace. Real peace.

It felt so fragile that she didn’t even want to move, afraid the quiet would break if she did.

Her eyelids felt heavy. She leaned back slightly, her arm brushing against one of the children. Nate shifted in his sleep, clutching her shirt with a small hand.

Mannie smiled faintly and smoothed his hair.

“Good night, my lovelies,” she whispered.

When she was sure all of them were deeply asleep, she rose carefully, one step at a time, her bare feet silent against the floor. She tucked the blanket around them, then reached for the light switch.

Click.

Darkness.

Only the soft moonlight slipped through the curtain.

She sighed softly. “Mum, please just go to sleep,” she prayed under her breath as she stepped out of the room.

She didn’t want to run into her mother—not tonight. Not with how things had been since David’s visit.

If she met her now, she knew what would happen. Another long talk. Another boastful declaration about her “new son-in-law.”

Her heart sank at the thought.

She walked quietly toward the living room. The lights were still on.

Her brows furrowed. “Why’s she still awake?”

She peeked around the corner.....and froze.

Her mother was sitting on the couch, phone pressed to her ear, voice loud and full of pride.

“Hehehe… do you think Mannie is still the Mannie of before?” Clara said with a laugh that carried through the room. “She has found the father of her children and he’s a CEO.”

Mannie’s heart skipped.

Oh no.

“Then what’s the name of the company?” came a familiar voice on the other end.

Sandra.

Her sister-in-law.

The name alone made Mannie’s stomach twist.

“Monroe Group!” her mother replied proudly, her voice rising an octave.

Mannie’s eyes widened. “Oh God, no,” she whispered, stepping closer.

A harsh laugh echoed from the speaker. “Hehehe… can you hear yourself?” Sandra mocked. “How can a used shoe like Mannie, with eight kids—not even one—bag such a man?”

The words stabbed through the air like knives.

Clara sat upright, her face hardening. “My daughter is not a used shoe,” she said sharply. “And what’s impossible for you isn’t impossible for my daughter! Besides, give the phone back to your husband. He’s the one I called!”

“I’m not giving him anything,” Sandra spat. “And you must be delusional if you think Mannie could ever get someone like that.”

“I’m warning you, Sandra,” Clara said, her voice trembling with anger. “Don’t get on my nerves. Stop insulting my daughter.”

Mannie’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Her chest burned. Each word felt like salt rubbed into old wounds.

She wanted to storm in, grab the phone, and end it. But she couldn’t move. Her feet were glued to the floor.

Sandra’s mocking voice came again, sharper than before. “Mother-in-law—ha! I call you that because of your son. If you think your so-called son-in-law is really the CEO of Monroe Group, let him come tomorrow. We’ll come to Mannie’s house and see him for ourselves.”

Her tone dripped with arrogance.

Clara’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. “Do you dare bet? He will come!” she snapped. “You’ll see!”

“I’m sure Mannie is lying,” Sandra sneered. “As usual. Nothing good ever comes out of her mouth.”

That did it.

Mannie stepped fully into the living room, her face pale but burning with fury.

Her voice was cold and cutting. “Mom.”

Clara turned sharply. Her eyes widened. She froze, phone still in hand. Luckily, the call had already been dropped.

She hadn’t realized Mannie was there. Or that she had heard everything.

Mannie’s chest rose and fell quickly. “Can’t you, for once, just rest?” she said, her voice shaking with anger. “Can something good not happen without you going around bragging to everyone?”

“Mannie—”

“You just let her insult me! You let her degrade me to the barest minimum!” Mannie snapped, tears burning behind her eyes. “Now you’ve invited her here—to my house—so she can mock me again! Are you happy?”

Clara flinched. “I didn’t—”

“You did,” Mannie said sharply. “You’ve decided to drag me into another fire again.”

She took a step closer, pointing a trembling finger. “You know how much I hate all that drama, how much I try to stay away from them. But no—you just gave them the chance to come here and laugh at me!”

Clara’s lips parted, but no words came.

Mannie’s voice broke. “David isn’t the father of my children. And he’s not coming here. Not for your show, not for your pride!”

She turned away, her hand trembling as she wiped her eyes. “You promised to change,” she whispered bitterly. “Yet you throw me from one fire to another.”

“Mannie—”

But the slam of her door cut through the air.

The sound echoed through the house, leaving silence behind.

Clara stood frozen for a long moment, still holding the phone. Her eyes glistened as guilt and pride warred in her expression.

Finally, she sat back down slowly, lowering her head.

The house felt heavier than before.

---

Morning came too fast.

The sky was still gray when Mannie woke. The smell of fried eggs filled the kitchen. The house was too quiet—too calm.

She moved quickly, brushing the children’s hair, packing their lunches, forcing herself to smile even when her head still throbbed from last night’s fight.

She wanted to be gone before her mother woke up.

But life never went her way.

A loud knock rattled the door.

Bang! Bang!

She froze.

“Mum, please don’t…” she whispered, but it was too late.

Clara’s voice rang out from the sitting room. “Coming!”

The slap of flip-flops followed.

Mannie frowned. “When did she start wearing flip-flops inside the house?” she muttered, but she didn’t look up. She focused on buttoning Jay’s uniform.

The door creaked open.

Voices came flooding in—unwanted ones.

“Where’s the person?” a deep male voice asked.

Mannie’s stomach dropped.

Her brother.

And right after him came Sandra’s sharp voice, full of mock sweetness. “Ah, mother-in-law, you didn’t lie. We came to see your CEO.”

Mannie clenched her jaw.

She rose slowly from her crouched position, her hands tightening on the edge of the table.

Clara laughed awkwardly. “Do you expect him to be here this early in the morning?”

Mannie didn’t even look their way. She picked up another child’s shoe and spoke quietly. “Jay, hold Nate’s hand.”

Her mother turned to her, still smiling like nothing was wrong. “Mannie, call David. Let him come pick up the kids so your brother and Sandra can see him.”

Mannie froze.

Even the kids stopped moving.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

Then she exhaled sharply, her tone flat. “Let’s go.”

Each child grabbed a sibling’s hand, their little faces confused. She gathered the lunchboxes and marched to the door.

Her steps were fast, angry, heavy.

She didn’t even look at Sandra and her husband as she passed.

Sandra’s smirk widened. “Ah, are you running now that we’ve come to expose your lie?”

Mannie stopped mid-step. Her grip tightened on the doorknob.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze cold.

That was when she noticed someone else—another woman, standing beside Sandra, all decked in gold earrings and perfume strong enough to choke.

Sandra’s sister-in-law.

The one who always sided with her.

Mannie’s voice came out low but firm. “I’ve already said it’s a misunderstanding. If you’re looking for a liar, talk to my mother. She’s the one who’s been spreading that nonsense.”

“Tsk…” Sandra rolled her eyes. “What do you expect from a liar and a whore?”

Mannie’s head snapped toward her brother. “Are you just going to stand there?”

He looked away, pretending to inspect the curtain.

Of course.

What did she expect?

He never stood up for her. Not once.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Typical.”

Clara’s voice rose suddenly, sharp and angry. “You! My daughter isn’t a liar. And you—” she pointed at her son—“control your wife!”

Sandra’s expression turned smug. “Why don’t you tell your daughter to call that man she’s lying about? Prove it.”

Clara turned to Mannie, desperate now. “Mannie, just call David. Show them you’re not lying.”

Mannie snorted, her patience snapping. “Oh, you even brought luggage,” she said dryly, spotting the small bag near the TV. “Planning to camp here too?”

Sandra blinked. “We came prepared,” she said proudly.

Mannie walked forward, grabbed the handle of the bag, and yanked it toward the door. “Perfect,” she said tightly. “Then it’ll be easier for you to leave.”

She dragged it outside, the wheels bumping against the uneven floor.

Clara followed quickly, her face pale. “Mannie—”

But Mannie wasn’t listening anymore.

She turned on them, her voice trembling with fury. “Get out. All of you. I don’t owe you any explanations.”

Her brother’s lips curled into a small, cruel smile. “I was right after all,” he said smugly, brushing invisible dust from his shirt. “You always bring shame.”

That did it.

Mannie shoved the door wide open and pointed outside. “Leave!” she shouted.

The shock on their faces almost satisfied her. Almost.

Sandra sniffed, glaring. “Crazy as ever,” she muttered, but she grabbed her bag and marched out, heels clicking against the ground.

Her sister-in-law followed closely, whispering behind her hand.

Her brother stayed a moment longer, his eyes sweeping the small living room with contempt. Then he shook his head and walked out too.

Mannie slammed the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.

The noise startled the children, but she didn’t turn. She stood there, breathing hard, her hands shaking.

Clara’s eyes were wide with shock. “Mannie—”

“Not now, Mum.” Mannie’s voice was calm but cold. “I’m done.”

She gathered the kids again, opened the door, and stepped out.

The air outside was cool, the morning sun still soft.

She didn’t look back.

Her heart was heavy, but her face was blank.

She led the children toward the gate, their tiny hands holding onto her dress.

The door shut behind them.

Inside, Clara stood motionless in the middle of the living room, guilt pressing down on her shoulders.

Outside, on the street, Sandra and her sister-in-law walked away, laughing loudly.

They thought they had won.

They whispered to each other, their voices dripping with mockery.

“Hah! I told you—she’s always been a liar,” Sandra said. “Did you see her face? Priceless.”

Her sister-in-law snorted. “And her mother still defends her. Crazy runs in the family.”

They laughed again, the sound harsh and ugly in the morning air.

To them, they had “escaped their crazy relative.”

And as they walked away, still giggling and flattering each other, they didn’t notice the curtain shift behind the window—

where Clara stood, tears streaming down her cheeks, listening to their laughter fade.

Outside, the voices grew distant, blending with the sound of the waking city — Sandra and her sister-in-law making a mockery of Mannie and her mother.

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