Washing Wheat
The year my son Adrian Fuller was born, I started learning how to raise him properly.
Knowing his reserved nature, I handpicked four adopted daughters to watch over and protect him.
I poured a decade of heart, soul, and resources into their upbringing; each grew up to be ruthless and fully capable of handling anything on their own.
Over the years, Adrian's life was indeed smooth-sailing under the tight protection of his four older sisters.
That was until I got a desperate call for help from Adrian one day. "Dad, help me... Someone cornered me in the restroom to beat me up..."
When I rushed to the school, I found Adrian huddled in the corner of the restroom, half his school uniform torn to shreds.
Meanwhile, the four adopted daughters I had personally raised were standing just outside the door, surrounding a boy and watching the scene unfold with amusement.
Only then did I realize that this boy, Elliot Hart, was the guy they were all hopelessly in love with.
It all started with nothing more than a brief argument between him and Adrian.
When they saw me arrive, they showed not a shred of remorse; instead, they looked impatient.
Shania Whitmore, the eldest, stepped in front of Elliot. "Dad, he was the one who ran his mouth and pissed off Elliot. Since he doesn't know how to show respect, I just taught him some manners on your behalf."
Vivian Whitmore, the third sister, spoke indifferently. "What are you doing here, Dad? We were just trying to give Adrian a little scare. Was it really necessary for him to go tattling to you?"
Seeing the self-righteous look on their faces made my blood boil.
They were all grown up, forgetting who raised them.
Starting today, I was done with all of them.