Chapter 2
The crowd erupted again.
"Seriously? That's just cold-blooded. She was just trying to help, but you pushed her away."
"She's getting old—a fall like that is no joke. How can you be so heartless to your daughter and so cruel to your mom?"
"Are you even her kid? After everything she's done to raise you, this is how you treat her?"
Lisa just plopped herself down on the ground, slapping her thighs like she was cursing her own fate. "How did I end up with a son like you? What kind of misfortune did I bring on myself?
"I must've really screwed up raising you. You turned out to be such a heartless person. If I'd known this was coming, I'd never have brought you into this world."
Bruce just gave a cold smirk. "Spare me. I know exactly what you're like, so quit the theatrics."
Lisa's face turned dark, and she just turned away, bawling again.
People were pulling out their phones left and right, taking snaps and posting them all over social media.
[These two pieces of trash let their daughter's murderer walk free, and then they shoved their elderly mom. No respect for family, no care for anyone—what kind of monsters are they?]
[Expose them. The whole internet needs to see exactly what these two have done.]
Flashbulbs popped like crazy as netizens grabbed our faces and blasted them nationwide.
Anyone who heard the story was raging. They ripped into us online so hard that it shot straight to the top of trending topics in no time.
Bruce and I locked eyes—there wasn't even a hint of fear in us. If anything, I felt a strange rush of excitement.
Let it go viral. The bigger the scandal, the better.
Lisa struggled to her feet, ignoring us entirely. She gripped her cane so tightly that her knuckles went white, her body shuddering. "If you don't take him to court, then I will. Even if it kills me, I'll seek justice for Yulanda."
Bruce's attitude finally snapped—his face twisted with rage as he shouted, "Go ahead, if you have the guts. The second you do it, we're done for good. From now on, don't even think about me seeing you again. You're on your own."
Lisa started shaking even harder, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. "You... you heartless bastard. Look at Yulanda's body.
"She fell from the 18th floor—smashed to death, her brains and blood splattered all over the pavement. Look at her. There's a fully formed baby inside her, and it's still moving."
I turned my head—right there, in that mangled heap of blood and flesh, Yulanda's belly was still faintly writhing.
Everyone who witnessed it was shaken to their core. But we all knew that the little one didn't stand a chance.
My whole body started trembling uncontrollably.
Lisa's parched eyes filled up, tears rolling down her deeply wrinkled cheeks.
"Bruce, Linda, is it just because she was a girl? Are you embarrassed by her, and that's why you won't stand up for her?
"Tell me honestly. If she were a boy, would you move heaven and earth to get justice for him? Even if you do favor sons over daughters, you can't just toss Yulanda aside like she's nothing."
Everyone's face lit up with understanding.
"So that's why they're so cold-hearted—they only prefer boys and think their daughter doesn't matter," one person sneered.
"Didn't we all come out of a woman? How could anyone act like girls aren't worth anything?" another chimed in.
"What, just because she's a girl, she doesn't deserve to be treated fairly?"
Bruce and I kept quiet the whole time, never saying a single word.
Lisa was bawling her eyes out, acting like the world was ending. "Are you still upset that she got married so young and didn't bring home any money for you to spend?
"Or is it that you're mad that she didn't snag some rich guy so you two could live a good life without lifting a finger?"
Lisa's full-on sobbing and wailing act only riled up the crowd even more.
"It's like they don't even see their daughter as a real person."
Lisa clung to my hand, sobbing so hard that her tears splashed onto the back of it. "Don't blame her.
"She told me how stifling it was at home, so she just needed to get away from you, dreaming of somewhere she could finally be happy.
"All she ever wanted was a little love from you two. She was so desperate for affection. That's how she got tricked by that lowlife."
The crowd was getting even more worked up.
"Maybe their daughter was already depressed before she left home. If that's true, they're basically accomplices in her death," someone said.
"No wonder they're protecting the killer. Probably terrified that everyone will find out about the way they abused their kid," another person sneered.
The random onlookers already hated our guts; now they couldn't take it anymore. Fired up, a whole mob rushed us like they were out for blood.
They came swinging—handbags, umbrellas, even high heels—smashing them at us with everything they had, not holding back at all.
Every single cell in my body was screaming in pain.
"Enough!" I completely lost it—couldn't hold back for another second.
"Lisa, you're unbelievable. Always twist the story to make yourself look innocent.
"If you cared so much about Yulanda, then why—when she tried to run off with some street punk at fourteen—did you not only let her go, but actually cheered her on?" I shot back, voice sharp.
Lisa was stunned, just standing there speechless.
The crowd erupted. "Wait, what? Fourteen?"
"She was running away from home with a man at fourteen, and her grandma actually backed her up?" someone questioned, unable to believe it.
"But still, isn't that a bit much to stay pissed for years?" someone else muttered.
Lisa wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
"Back then, she came to me sobbing, telling me she just couldn't stand the constant yelling and hitting anymore. She said if she had to stay one more day, she'd rather die, so she made up some excuse just to get out.
"How could I ever bear to watch her die? The whole reason she did it was to get you to notice her, to make you care.
"But you didn't even try to find her—you just let her run off with that man like it meant nothing," Lisa cried.
By now, the crowd was surging, their anger practically boiling over.
People whipped out their phones, livestreaming every second and blasting it all over social media. The quickest ones started doxxing us, throwing our private info out there for the world to tear apart.
In an instant, our phones were blowing up with endless harassing calls.
The texts were so vile and obscene that I couldn't even bring myself to read them.
We became the online punching bags—everyone wanted a piece of us.