Chapter 3

At the end of the hallway, I found Hannah shoved over on the ground outside the bathroom, sobbing and shaking with pain.

Standing over her was Neville, his face twisted with anger. "That's what you get for calling the wrong person 'Mommy!' I'm gonna beat you up for real this time!"

He kicked her square in the stomach.

Hannah let out a cry of pain and tried to crawl away, but one of the boys behind Neville grabbed her by the arms.

"Serves you right, you homewrecker's kid!"

"My mommy said kids like you, the illegitimate trash, should've been strangled at birth!"

Hannah flailed, trying to fight them off and gasping between sobs. "You're lying! She is my mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Help me! It hurts! Where are you?"

The second I saw what was happening, my mind went blank with a deafening roar. Rage flooded me, boiling in my blood and bursting through my veins.

When the boys caught sight of me and saw the fury in my face, they froze before scattering like rats.

I rushed over to scoop Hannah into my arms. She was trembling violently, so I immediately called 911.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Daddy's here. Daddy's got you. You're safe now."

The ambulance came quickly. By then, a crowd of curious parents had started to gather, whispering and wondering what had happened.

I clutched Hannah tightly and sprinted toward the paramedics.

As I passed the play area, I saw Samantha happily building blocks with Neville, while Oscar stood by, wiping the sweat from her forehead like some loyal assistant.

She looked up at the commotion, her brows knitting in confusion, and started to walk toward me. "What happened? What's wrong with Hannah?"

Before I could say a word, Oscar grabbed her wrist. "Samantha, you promised you'd spend the whole day with Neville. You don't know how excited he was when I told him last night that you'd be with him the entire day."

Samantha hesitated, her steps faltering. By then, I was already inside the ambulance with Hannah in my arms.

She had passed out, and the paramedics began working on her immediately.

One of the doctors gently lifted Hannah's dress before she froze, her face draining of color. "Oh my god… Who could hurt a child this badly?"

Tears surged to my eyes. I was completely shaken.

Hannah's pale skin was covered in bruises—angry purples and sickening blues. On her side was a massive welt the size of a fist.

She wouldn't stop trembling, and the doctor's tone suddenly turned urgent. "Get the monitor hooked up, now!"

Two hours passed before they stabilized Hannah. Those were two of the longest, most agonizing hours of my life.

Regret and fury twisted through me, crashing and surging like waves in my chest. They tore through me, wild and unstoppable.

My mom stood nearby, tears falling as she scolded me, her voice shaking. "Why weren't you watching her? What kind of suffering did she have to go through for it to end up like this?"

Eventually, Hannah stirred on the hospital bed. The IV bag dripped quietly above her, slow and steady.

She blinked her eyes open, confused, then looked at me. "Daddy, why did they say I'm a child abandoned by my mommy? But I have a mommy. Why didn't she protect me?"

I bent down and kissed her forehead gently, holding back the sting in my eyes. "Daddy will always protect you, sweetheart. You're my whole world. As for Mommy… we're the ones who don't want her anymore."

…

When I returned to the preschool, Family Day was wrapping up.

The final activity was a collaborative family drawing, where everyone painted a picture of their "happy family".

Samantha sat calmly, coloring in the picture with care, with Neville snuggling into her side. Oscar stood beside them, beaming and snapping pictures like it was his Christmas card come to life.

It was a perfect, peaceful little family portrait.

Why was Hannah lying in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while the ones who hurt her got to sit here, enjoying their fairy-tale ending?

I stormed across the room without hesitation and slapped Oscar hard across the face. The force of the hit sent him stumbling back, slamming into the edge of the table behind him with a loud thud.

The entire room fell silent. Everyone stared, stunned by the sudden violence.

Samantha shouted, "Zach, what the hell is wrong with you?"

She rushed to Oscar, checking his face, her eyes full of concern. "Oscar, are you okay? Does it hurt?"

Oscar shook his head weakly, playing the victim. "Zach, maybe there's been a misunderstanding… I'm sorry, alright?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Sorry? Is that it? It doesn't feel very sincere to me."

I cocked my fist again, ready for round two.

Samantha stepped in to block me, but instead of stopping, I turned and slammed my open palm straight across her face. A red handprint was already blooming across her cheek.

Samantha held her face, stunned for a second, before losing it. "Zach, are you out of your damn mind? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Before things could escalate further, Sophia rushed over, trying to break it up. "Mr. Neel, what's going on?"

I jabbed a finger toward Neville, my voice practically shaking with rage. "That little brat and a couple of boys jumped my daughter while I wasn't looking!"

The words had barely left my mouth before Oscar jumped in, desperate. "No way! Neville's a good kid! Samantha, you have to believe me!"

I stepped forward, my voice cold. "No way? Then what the hell do you think the ambulance was here for?"

Samantha immediately stepped in front of Oscar and Neville like a human shield. "They're just kids! Kids roughhouse sometimes, so what's the big deal? But you? You came in here swinging, like a total psycho!"

Seeing me approach again, Samantha suddenly lunged, shoving me with all her strength.

I hit the ground hard. My palm scraped against the floor, blood already seeping from the fresh wound.

A few of the same parents who had been sucking up to Samantha all day now loomed over me, mockery gleaming in their eyes.

"What is this? Are you trying to stage a scam or something? Do you think you can squeeze money out of Ms. Miller because she's loaded?"

"Clearly, he doesn't know who he's messing with. Wait till Aviora Holdings' legal team deals with him—he'll be crying in court."

"I bet he hit on Ms. Miller and got rejected. Now he's throwing a tantrum. Look at him—he's a joke next to her husband."

"He's definitely a side-piece. He has no class at all."

Just then, the screech of tires cut through the noise, and three sleek black SUVs pulled up outside the preschool.

Someone in the crowd gasped. "Those have the Aviora Holdings logo. That's executive-level transport!"

Another brown-noser chimed in, loud and gleeful. "Ms. Miller's no joke. She called in corporate backup."

Then, he turned and spat in my direction. "You're done, man. Everyone knows Aviora's legal team is ruthless in Harttown. You'd better start saving for the payout or get ready for jail."

One of the parents there, an influencer, was already filming, thrilled by the drama. "I did not expect to stumble into this kind of tea today! Alright, followers, smash that like button! We're going live with this clown's public meltdown!"

Meanwhile, Oscar suddenly lit up like it was Christmas morning. His eyes locked on Samantha with dramatic, teary admiration. Neville stood tall beside him, smirking like he'd already won.