Abuse My Kid? Meet My Wrath

I bolted downstairs—and froze.

Della was on the floor, clutching a ripped piece of Elise's shirt, crying.

"Mom, I don't know why Elise hit me," she whined, arm stretched out.

Before I could say anything, Elise jumped in. "Mom, I didn't—"

"Yes, you did!" Della barked. "You said I stole your place for three years and told me to go die!"

Then she turned the waterworks up to max. "Mom, I'll leave and give Elise her spot back. Just please don't let me die. I'm scared I'll never see you again."

Elise opened her mouth... then clamped it shut.

'If I keep explaining, Mom will think I'm a bad kid who won't admit her mistakes.

'Last time, every time Della bullied me, Dad and my brothers took her side. They thought I was the one picking on her. Thought she only lied to cover it up.'

My chest twisted. Elise stood there, head down—already bracing herself to say sorry.

I stepped in front of Elise. "Della, I saw the whole thing. You were the one grabbing at her clothes. So why lie and say she bullied you?"

Della blinked—then launched into full meltdown mode. "You don't believe me, but you believe THAT kid?!

"You two are real mother and daughter, and I'm just some outsider! That's why you're ganging up on me!

"You PROMISED you'd still love me the same after she came back—liar!"

She ran upstairs bawling, then slammed her door.

I was fuming, but I forced myself to stay calm. Della had been the family's golden girl for three years—it made sense she couldn't handle the truth just yet.

She was still a kid. Jealousy? Expected. The nasty attitude? I tried to brush it off.

So I swallowed the anger, went upstairs, and raised my hand to knock—

But then I heard her through the door.

"That old hag's already picking favorites. I cried my heart out, and she still cared about 'the truth.'

"The truth is, that piece of trash should just die!

"Once that old hag's gone, I'll make sure Elise NEVER forgets who runs this house."

My hand froze midair.

I never imagined the girl I'd protected like my own could think like that.

Elise tugged at my sleeve just then, her little voice barely holding back tears. "Mom, I don't want to go to school anymore."

Then I heard it—her thoughts, raw and trembling:

'Della's so mad today. She's gonna beat me to death.

'I don't want to get locked up with her and the dog again.

'The dog bit me so hard—it ripped off my nose and ears.'

That was it.

I'd given Della the benefit of the doubt. I thought our years together meant something. I tried to be fair.

But she still acted like this was her castle, and Elise was just trash to toss around.

No more.

I called out, loud and sharp, "Maya! Take Della to the orphanage. Now."

Silence. Della's tantrum died instantly.

Maya, the maid, stared at me. "Ma'am, how can you be so unfair? Della's crying her eyes out and you're still being this harsh? People will talk.

"She's smart. She'll go places. Elise? She's timid, weak. Who knows what she'll turn into?"

I slapped her. Hard.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can trash my daughter to my face? Either get Della out of here or pack YOUR bags."

Maya panicked. "Maybe we should wait for Mr. Sheeter. He's the head of the house. A woman can't just decide stuff like this."