From Kindergarten Scam to National-Level Payback

I felt utterly drained reading these malicious taunts.

Finally, Mr. Dugan posted a screenshot of a conversation in the group.

"I've already reported this to the principal. This is an official collective purchase by the kindergarten. Mr. Miller, just think of it as supporting the kindergarten.

"Make sure you have the stock ready. I'll arrange for the parents to come pick it up from your place when the time comes. You don't even have to deliver it yourself."

Looking at his message, I felt a tight knot in my chest. Since when had I agreed to this purchase? And where was the purchase contract?

Yet, not a single person in the group spoke up for me. In fact, aside from those praising Mr. Dugan, the rest were ridiculing me for not knowing what was good for me.

I decided to stop reading the group messages altogether. It wasn't like they could just show up and take them by force if I just ignored them, right?

When I dropped Stanley off at the kindergarten the next morning, I happened to run into Mr. Dugan.

Seeing me approach, he immediately smiled and stepped forward.

"Mr. Miller, how are the pears coming along? Everyone's waiting eagerly, you know."

A few parents nearby who were also dropping off their kids turned to look at us when they heard this.

I tightened my grip on Stanley's little hand. Not wanting to lose my composure in front of him, I simply said, "Mr. Dugan, I made it very clear in the group chat yesterday. This batch of pears has already been fully reserved. I truly don't have any extras."

Mr. Dugan's smile gradually faded. He glanced at me first, then looked down at Stanley.

"Fine. Actually, this works out—I've been meaning to let you know that Stanley hasn't been behaving well lately. So, I'll have to reconsider whether to give him the lead dancer spot in the end-of-term showcase," he said icily.

My heart jolted.

Stanley had been practicing extra hard for two whole months for that lead dancer spot, and Mr. Dugan had promised it to him.

I instinctively looked at Stanley and noticed something was off about him today.

"Daddy, Mr. Dugan made me sit all by myself at the very back yesterday, and he also wouldn't let me play building blocks with the other kids. Did I do something wrong?"

He hid behind me, too scared to even look at Mr. Dugan.

Those words sent a tremor through my heart.

Mr. Dugan was a teacher, so how could he mistreat such a young child just because I hadn't given in to his unreasonable demands?

I bit my lip and crouched down to help Stanley straighten his backpack.

"It's okay, bud. Daddy will handle it. You just be good in class today, alright?"

Stanley lowered his head even further.

Just then, Jay walked over with his son, making snide remarks as he passed.

"Some parents make it seem like helping the kindergarten out is the hardest thing in the world. Funny how they forget whose care their child is under."

The surrounding parents exchanged glances and started whispering among themselves.

I stayed silent and held Stanley's hand a little tighter.

When we reached the classroom door, I discovered that Stanley's seat had been moved all the way to the back corner. He didn't even have a desk mate anymore.

The other kids were clustered together in small groups, chatting and laughing—not a single one of them spared Stanley a glance.

Stanley walked to his seat and placed his backpack down neatly.

"Daddy, go to work. I'll be fine on my own," he said with a forced smile.

Seeing how mature he was being about it, I felt like a knife had been driven straight through my heart. He was only five years old, yet he had already learned how to comfort the adults while swallowing his own hurt.

I gently stroked his head, then turned and walked out of the classroom to find Mr. Dugan.

He was sitting in his office, sipping tea. When he saw me walk in, the corner of his mouth curled up involuntarily.