Parents Blew up My Phone, Now I'm Blowing up Their World

I turned around and said calmly, "Alright, it's over. Everything's fine. Class, please get ready for the lesson."

Relying on my years of experience, I made it through two class periods. The moment I left the classroom, I saw Michael Henderson, the principal, standing in the hallway.

With his arms folded, he gestured for me to come along to his office. As the door shut behind us, his face hardened. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you've started, Ms. Lawson?

"Not only did you ignore a parent's calls, but you also took down her camera. She's already filed a complaint with me!"

I couldn't care less about the accusations; my priority was to speak with Michael. With my right hand, I slammed the dismantled camera down in front of him.

"Mr. Henderson, parents are not permitted to install surveillance cameras in my classroom without approval. Such devices not only distract other students but also disrupt the learning environment."

I slid my phone across his desk as I spoke. Over the span of two lessons, Christina made almost two hundred calls via auto-dialer. My inbox was drowning in her messages.

"How dare you defy me? You're essentially digging your own grave."

"Either you quit and leave Jaleston, or I'll be coming to make you pay."

I looked at Michael and said, "She's the one who kept calling me non-stop. I was even thinking about reporting her to the police because of those threats."

Michael slammed his fist onto the desk, shouting, "Ms. Lawson! What's with that attitude of yours?

"Don't you know who Zoe's dad is? Mr. Street is the richest man in Jaleston, for crying out loud! Trust me; you don't want to be on his bad side.

"Our school is just a private institution. Please don't bring us any trouble."

The richest man in Jaleston? I always thought my husband was the wealthiest in this city. Since when did this Street guy take that title?

Before I could even wrap my head around it, Michael threw a folder at me.

"Go back at once and make sure you fully understand Mrs. Street's instructions."

The folder's sharp edge grazed my cheek, making me gasp. Inside, the pages revealed a meticulous schedule, detailing every minute detail of a teacher's duty.

As a homeroom teacher, I had to report my outfit every morning before 5:00 am. My heels must be no taller than three centimeters, and my sleeves must cover my wrists. Formal black pants were non-negotiable.

On top of that, I was responsible for supervising Zoe during her meals at 12:00 pm and 6:00 pm in the cafeteria.

Her menu was also stipulated. Each meal had to consist of 120 grams of carbs, 30 grams of protein, and 200 grams of vegetables.

To manage this, I was required to carry a food scale with me at all times. Not only did I have to weigh everything down to the gram, but I also had to take photos of the food as documentation.

In addition to all that, I was to carry a tape measure with me wherever I went. My job was to track Zoe's steps and remind her of the exact distance she needed to maintain.

Whenever Christina contacted me, all I could say was, "Yes, ma'am."

The sheer number of her demands left me completely at a loss for words.

A wry smile pulled at my lips. "Mr. Henderson, could you specify which Mr. Street you're referring to?"

At that moment, Michael's phone buzzed with an incoming call. With a flattering grin, he picked up the phone. "Yes, Mr. Street, is there anything else you'd like from us?"

On the other end, an angry voice boomed. "Does your school even know how to do things right? Isn't teaching a service-oriented job? Just how many times have you managed to upset my wife?"

Michael quickly tried to smooth things over. "Don't worry, sir. We'll make sure to accommodate all of Mrs. Street's requests."

In just a few sentences, I recognized the raspy voice. It was Paul Street, my husband's secretary. How had he gone from being just a secretary to supposedly the wealthiest man in the city?

A quiet snort escaped me as I walked out of Michael's office. Once I found Paul's contact, I immediately sent him a text.

"I'm giving you half an hour. Get to your daughter's school right now!"

Out of nowhere, I heard hurried footsteps approaching. Before I could react, someone snatched the phone from my hand. As soon as she saw who I'd texted, her eyebrow lifted in surprise.

"How dare you contact my husband behind my back?"