My Stepdaughter Framed Me—So I Sent Her Father to Prison

The moment we walked in, Blanche flinched and ducked behind Vincent.

"Daddy... I'm scared..."

Vincent immediately stepped in front of her like a guard dog, shooting me a vicious glare.

"Margot, you've got some nerve showing up here."

"Look at the daughter you raised—stealing at her age!"

The homeroom teacher was a woman in her forties named Ivy Lambert. She pushed her glasses up and looked at me with undisguised contempt.

"Ms. Fox, I understand you're a busy executive, always chasing the next dollar."

"But you can't neglect your child's upbringing."

"Blanche says Irene stole her diamond necklace—worth fifty thousand dollars."

"We have witnesses and evidence. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I looked around the room at this little circus.

"Witnesses? Evidence? Where?"

Ms. Lambert gestured to a group of girls standing nearby.

They wore their uniforms hemmed short, faces touched with makeup—clearly Blanche's crew.

One of them stepped forward and pointed at Irene.

"I saw it with my own eyes! Irene went through Blanche's bag while she was at PE!"

"Yeah! I saw it too!"

"Irene's always been jealous of Blanche. She says Blanche stole her mom—this is obviously revenge!"

They piled on, one after another, throwing accusations like mud.

Irene gripped my hand tight, trembling, shaking her head desperately.

"I didn't... I didn't steal anything..."

"Shut up!" Vincent bellowed. "Nobody asked you!"

"Rotten to the core, just like your mother!"

I pulled Irene behind me and shielded her.

My gaze swept across every person in the room.

Then settled on Ms. Lambert.

"Ms. Lambert, you're convicting my daughter based on the word of a few students?"

"What about the security cameras? Did you check them?"

Something flickered in her eyes.

"The cameras... they're broken."

"Besides, these girls are exemplary students. They wouldn't lie."

"Irene, on the other hand, has always been a loner. Antisocial. She has motive."

I almost laughed.

Exemplary students?

I could smell the cigarette smoke on them from six feet away.

And the girl who'd spoken first—wasn't that the bracelet I'd bought Blanche just last month on her wrist?

So that's how it was. Blanche had been using my money to buy loyalty, playing queen bee at school.

And my daughter had become their punching bag.

"Margot, stop making excuses."

Vincent waved his hand impatiently.

"Just have Irene return the necklace and apologize to Blanche."

"We're family, so we won't involve the police."

"But if this goes on her record, her future is over. You understand that, right?"

Blanche peeked out from behind Vincent, a smug little smile curling at her lips.

She mouthed two words at me:

Pay up.

So that's what this was about.

This whole performance—just another shakedown.

She knew Irene was my weak spot. She thought she could use my daughter's future to force my hand.

Too bad she'd miscalculated.

I pulled out my phone, opened the voice recorder, and set it on the table.

"Call the police."