Revenge: After Daughter Commits Suicide By Jumping Off Building

I finished breakfast as usual.

Just as Argon was about to take our daughter to school, I stopped him, saying, “Althea’s hair is a bit messy. Let me fix it for her.”

With that, I took my daughter to the bathroom.

Closing the door, I lifted her shirt.

Her body was smooth and flawless, free of any bruises.

This was a stark contrast to the scarred body I had seen in my previous life.

So where had the problem truly arisen?

Why would my daughter have both new and old injuries all over her body just a few hours later?

“Darling, are you done? Althea is going to be late!” Argon shouted.

As I pondered, his impatient voice echoed from outside the door.

I opened the door and looked at him, saying, “I’ll take Althea to kindergarten today.”

Argon’s eyes showed a hint of confusion, but he smiled slightly and replied, “Then it’s a bit of hard work for you, dear.”

After saying that, he turned without a word and began tidying up the dining table.

His demeanor and reaction were so normal that it was impossible to detect any issues.

But the more he acted this way, the more urgently I felt the need to uncover the truth.

On the way to drop my daughter off at school, I couldn’t help but ask, “Althea, have you ever been bullied in kindergarten?”

With a sweet smile, my daughter replied, “No, I’m very popular in kindergarten; everyone likes to play with me.”

I paused for a moment before continuing, “What about your teachers? How do they treat you?”

“Our teachers are all very nice! The head teacher often tells me stories and gives me little gifts!”

Her responses were natural and straightforward and her innocent smile radiated happiness.

I pulled the car over to the side and looked at her seriously, asking once more, “So how do you think Mommy treats you?”

With her clear, bright eyes, Althea answered without hesitation, “Mommy is really nice to me!”

After saying this, she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Althea loves Mommy the most!”

I hugged my daughter and said nothing more, simply taking her to kindergarten.

The head teacher was waiting at the entrance.

“Mrs. Morgan, how come you have time to drop your child off today?”

The head teacher greeted me with a smile and took my daughter by the hand.

“I’m not too busy at work today,” I replied with a smile while subtly observing her.

I noticed her smile widen as she squatted down, affectionately scratching my daughter’s nose.

“Look at how much your mommy loves you, Althea! She’s working so hard but still came to drop you off at school!”

The head teacher’s demeanor was warm and natural and even the way she looked at my daughter was filled with genuine affection.

It didn’t seem like she was pretending at all.

But the more I observed her, the more confused I became.

In my previous life, I had maintained a good relationship with my daughter's head teacher.

She was kind and treated my daughter well, always smiling and the children in the class liked her.

There were several times I wanted to invite her to dinner to thank her for taking such good care of my daughter, but she always declined, saying it was her duty and responsibility as a teacher and didn’t require any extra gratitude.

In my mind, she was a diligent and fair teacher.

Yet just a few hours later, this upright and easygoing person would publicly accuse me of being a malicious mother who abused her daughter.

I simply couldn’t understand where the problem lay.