Chapter 3

I marched straight into the faculty office.

Chloe’s teacher, Ms. Gable, was sitting at her desk, sipping artisanal coffee while browsing designer bags on her phone.

When she saw me burst in, out of breath, she frowned. An undisguised look of annoyance flashed in her eyes.

"Chloe’s mom? Parent Volunteer Day is over. Why are you running into my office instead of helping outside?"

I walked up to her desk, slammed my hands on the surface, and stared directly into her heavily powdered face.

"Ms. Gable, I just found a hidden micro-camera in the third-floor girls' restroom."

I kept my voice low, but every word was laced with steel.

Ms. Gable’s hand froze over her phone, but she quickly put it down, completely unbothered.

There was no shock, no anger, no concern. Instead, she let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"And here I thought the sky was falling."

She grabbed a tissue and slowly wiped her lips.

"Listen, Eleanor. Midterms are next week, and the boys are under a lot of academic pressure."

"A few mischievous boys pulling a prank to blow off steam is perfectly understandable. We shouldn't overreact."

I could not believe my ears.

Spying on the girls' restroom and violating the privacy of dozens of underage girls was just a "prank to blow off steam"?!

"Ms. Gable, this is a sex crime!"

My voice rose, drawing stares from the other teachers in the room.

Ms. Gable’s face darkened. She stood up, crossing her arms, and looked down her nose at me.

"Watch your mouth! Let's not use such dramatic words to scare people."

She looked me up and down, her eyes dripping with condescension.

"Besides, even if there was a camera, they’d only be filming the pretty girls with actual figures."

"With Chloe’s flat, boyish body and those oversized sweaters she wears, even if she was caught on camera, who would even want to watch that?"

"If you want attention, find a better excuse. Stop making a scene just to get noticed!"

I laughed out of sheer shock. It was utterly absurd.

This was a teacher at a prestigious private academy?

It turned out Ms. Gable wasn't just a social climber—she was completely devoid of human decency.

"Since you think it's such a minor issue, I wonder if you’ll be just as forgiving when you see this."

I smiled coldly, pulled out my phone, and played a video right in front of her face.

The video didn't just show the girls. It showed Ms. Gable herself.

In the footage, she walked into the restroom, climbed onto the toilet seat, and carefully adjusted the camera's angle. She even looked directly into the lens and flashed a sickening, sycophantic smile.

Ms. Gable’s face turned instantly white. Even her thick makeup couldn't hide the ghostly pallor of her skin.

She lunged forward, trying to grab my phone.

I stepped back swiftly, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

"What's the matter? Nervous now?" I sneered.

"As a teacher, you didn't just cover for a predator—you actively helped him adjust his lens."

"Ms. Gable, your lack of morals is truly a work of art."

Ms. Gable glared at me, her eyes filled with venom. She didn't look like a teacher anymore; she looked like a cornered snake.

"Eleanor, don't you dare push your luck!"

"You think you can threaten me with a cheap video?"

"Let me tell you something. The boy who installed that camera is Stephen Howard!"

"His father is the school board trustee, a very powerful man!"

"If you expose this, not only will your daughter become the laughingstock of the entire city, but she’ll also lose her enrollment. She won't even be allowed to take her midterms!"

"The Howards have a hundred ways to make sure you and your daughter can never show your faces in this state again!"

She was trying to use raw power and victim-blaming to shut me up.

If I were just a regular, helpless single mother, her words might have terrified me.

But looking at her twisted, ugly face, I only felt deep disgust.

"Chloe is the victim here. The ones who should be hiding in the dark are rats like you!"

I had no interest in wasting more breath on this trash. I turned on my heel.

"Since you refuse to do your job, I'll go straight to the principal."

"Let's see who really runs Lincoln High School!"

Behind me, Ms. Gable shrieked in rage:

"Go ahead! Let's see if the principal sides with the school's biggest donor, or a broke, hysterical housewife like you!"