“Poor thing, no dad at all!”
My daughter bit down on her lip, trying her hardest not to cry. Still, she held her head high and retorted, “I do have a dad!”
The boy sneered, “Then why isn’t he here? Just like Miss Laura said, you’re a little liar!”
The kids surrounded her, laughing and calling her names.
My expression hardened, and my fists clenched. She was being bullied. And not for the first time, I was sure of it now.
Miss Laura, who even was that?
Just as I stepped forward, ready to scoop my daughter into my arms and demand answers, her eyes suddenly lit up. She pointed excitedly toward the entrance and cried out, “Daddy! You came!”
I turned and followed her gaze. Milton had arrived, after all.
But how did he know the address of this event?
Then, a figure appeared behind him, answering all my questions.
He came with Laura.
So, she was the new teacher, who’d been isolating our daughter. The one poisoning her classmates against her.