Chapter 3

What the school and the bullies' parents did next completely destroyed the last shred of my self-control.

My parents, desperate for justice, went to the school first.

The school, however, pretended like nothing had happened.

The principal claimed, "Unless I see it with my own eyes, videos can be faked. For all we know, someone could've Photoshopped this. I could whip up ten more just like it."

It was all because the brown-haired girl's father was one of the school's major donors.

That scumbag didn't just refuse to hold his daughter accountable—he had the audacity to insult my parents.

"Maybe you should get your daughter checked out," he sneered. "Is her condition getting worse? Or maybe you two need to get checked—you're dumb enough to believe everything a slow kid says. Unlike you, I'm busy and don't have time for this nonsense."

Before my parents left, he couldn't resist one more jab.

"Don't forget, we only admitted your daughter because we wanted to support people with disabilities. Maybe you should show a little gratitude instead of complaining."

Even my sister's homeroom teacher defended the bullies, claiming that my sister had a "two-faced personality," pretending to be sweet while secretly bullying others.

The victim was painted as a villain, spat on and slandered.

My dad couldn't take it anymore. He went to the company owned by one of the bullies' parents to demand justice.

The result?

The security guards dragged him to a spot with no cameras and beat him so badly he broke his leg. He's still recovering at home.

The bullies? Untouched. Unbothered.

My family? Completely torn apart.

I'd never heard of justice working like this.

After much hesitation, my mother played me an audio recording. It was from the day my dad confronted the bullies.

Their voices were filled with arrogance, dripping with mockery.

"Oh, so you're saying we bullied her? Fine. Then yeah, we did. We bullied her. What are you gonna do about it?"

"When's she getting out of the hospital? Next time, we'll do the gender reassignment surgery for free. Hahaha!"

The laughter was like knives stabbing into my mother's chest.

When she looked at me, her eyes were filled with despair.

But I just smiled.

"Bullying?" I said, my voice steady, calm.

"In prison, bullying is what I do best."