Chapter 2

The day after Mary returned to the Winsley family, the school forum blew up with rumors.

[The real rich man’s daughter’s old photos from the countryside have surfaced. She appears to have close ties to people in shady circles.]

[Black cars picking her up, a scar-faced man handing her a bag—the Winsley family’s biological daughter has a questionable background.]

[The fake rich man’s daughter actually looks like a socialite. The real one looks more like a gang leader.]

They had secretly taken the photos outside the orphanage.

Mary stood beside a black car when Mark handed her a brown paper bag. They had darkened the photos to make it look like some sort of crime scene.

I stared at the screen. My hands and feet felt cold.

This was not some petty fight between kids.

Someone deliberately put Mary in the spotlight.

First, they used the “black cars,” “scar-faced man,” and “brown paper bag” to stir up a public frenzy. Then, they drew the attention of the school, parents, the media, and even the authorities to her.

If someone followed those photos, started digging, and uncovered something they should not, would Mary fly into a fit of rage out of humiliation?

Would she think that the Winsley family had failed to protect her?

Would she decide everyone involved had a debt to pay?

I could already picture a line of men in black suits showing up at our door in the middle of the night and saying, “Mr. Winsley, Miss Mary would like to have a word with you.”

With that thought in my mind, I immediately called the tech team.

“Trace it back to the source. Find the posting accounts, the forwarding groups, and the money trail. Dig up everything.”

My assistant, Vincent, asked, “Mr. Winsley, should we take down the posts?”

“No. Taking them down will make us look guilty. Find out exactly what happened and bring the evidence to us.”

At 11 p.m. that night, they delivered the information to my study room.

The original posts came from several burner accounts. They were Fiona’s friends.

The photos came from their group chat.

They had paid the online trolls with a supplementary credit card registered under Fiona.

I sat in my study room, frowning deeply.

Fiona had really lost her mind.

She thought she was fighting for our parents’ affection.

She had no idea that she actually threw matches into a pan of hot oil.

I had the butler summon my parents, Fiona, and Mary to the living room.

I placed the evidence on the coffee table.

“Did you have someone post those things on the forum?”

Fiona’s face went pale. She immediately shook her head.

“I didn’t! John, how could you suspect me?”

Mom flipped through the documents. When she saw the transfer records, her expression froze.

Dad’s expression darkened as well.

Fiona cried as she explained, “I lent that card to my friends to buy things. I really have no idea what they’re doing with it. I-I felt a little overwhelmed when I saw that Mary had come back.”

After she finished the last sentence, she covered her face with her hands.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I was just so afraid of losing you.”

Mom immediately softened.

“Fiona…”

I looked at her. My tone was more serious than it had ever been.

“Fiona, listen carefully. You are not to interfere with Mary again. You have no idea how much trouble you can cause in the future with those few photos you posted today.”

Fiona froze.

Dad frowned. “John, explain what you mean.”

I glanced at Mary.

She sat in the armchair. She looked indifferent, as though none of this had anything to do with her.

The calmer she looked, the more nervous I became.

She was far too good at keeping things bottled up.

The ones who could put up with the most were the ones you had to fear when they finally snapped.

I looked away from Mary and said to my parents, “You need to treat her better. She didn’t come back to us so you can put her on trial or let Fiona dump all her emotions on her.”

Then, Mary stood up.

“Are you done? I still have school tomorrow.”

I immediately stepped aside to clear the way.

“Yes. I’m done.”

Mary paused mid-stride before going upstairs. She turned back to look at me.

“Thank you.”

The two words were barely audible.

However, I froze.

She added another favor to my tab.

Good.

The Winsley family was safe for the time being.