Chapter 3

Kyrie stood on the platform, his once-sharp little suit cut to shreds and hanging off him like rags. His arms were covered in red scratches, all of them made by scissors. Not only that, even his backpack had been carelessly thrown onto the floor, covered in footprints.

Kenneth stood there, holding a pair of scissors in his hand, proudly addressing the entire class of children.

"Everyone look. This is what happens when you show off your wealth. Boys should be humble. Wearing these weird outfits just to get attention is tacky. From now on, nobody plays with Kyrie. Understand?"

The children in the audience did not really get it, but they followed along with the taunts anyway.

"Kyrie's a dork! Such a try-hard!"

Sarah sat in the front row, making faces at Kyrie. "Poor loser! Shame on you!"

Kyrie clenched his fists. Though scared, he stood as straight as he could, his eyes full of stubbornness and helplessness.

"Stop!" I let out a furious roar and rushed forward, shoving Kenneth aside.

Caught off guard, he stumbled backward and hit the blackboard. He shouted, "How dare you push me?! Security! Where the hell is security?"

I took off my jacket and wrapped it tightly around my trembling son. When I saw the bloody marks on his arms, my heart felt as though it was being torn apart.

"Dad, the clothes are ruined. Did I misbehave?" Kyrie leaned against me, his voice hoarse.

"Kyrie, you're the best. They're the mean ones. I'm going to get revenge for you right now!"

I turned around and stared at Kenneth as if I were ready to tear him apart. I growled, "What gave you the right to cut Kyrie's clothes, and what gave you the right to step all over his backpack? This is abuse, and it is a crime."

Kenneth adjusted his hair and looked at me with disdain. "I was just correcting his bad behavior. School rules say no flashy outfits. Since he wouldn't listen, I helped trim it down. As for the backpack, it was way too eye-catching. Is he trying to be a bad influence on the class?"

He mocked, "Besides, it's just some cheap clothes and a bag. How much could they cost? Worst case, I'll give you fifty bucks."

With that, he pulled a fifty-dollar bill from his bag and tossed it at my face as though he were dismissing a beggar.

"Take the money and get out with your show-off son!"

I was fuming. Still, seeing the other teachers gathering around us, I knew the advantage was not on my side. I had kept such a low profile that, aside from the preschool principal I worked with directly, nobody else knew my real identity.

It was obvious these people were all on Kenneth's side.

After taking several deep breaths, I suppressed my rage. "Kenneth, that suit you're wearing is an Armani spring limited edition, worth eighty-eight thousand dollars. The watch on your wrist is a Vacheron Constantin, worth two hundred thousand dollars. The shoes on your feet are a Berluti seasonal limited edition, worth fifty thousand dollars."

I stepped closer to him and asked, "You're a preschool teacher making eight thousand dollars a month. Where did you get the money to buy all this? Or maybe… these things were stolen in the first place?"

Kenneth's expression fell instantly, and he shouted, "These were gifts from my fiancée! She's a big-time executive!"

Just as he finished speaking, Adam burst in with a dozen other parents.

Adam pointed at me and yelled, "That's him! Mr. Griffin was kindly educating his son, and he dared to assault a teacher! Arrest him! This kind of savage doesn't deserve to be in our elite preschool!"

The crowd immediately surrounded Kyrie and me.