Sued by My Own Daughter Over a Mango

"Since your mind is made up, let the playback of your memories begin," Judge Steward declared.

The first memory played.

It was from before Rodney was born, when Hannah had just started elementary school.

Back then, she wasn't as sensible as she was now. In fact, she was quite a handful. She was always running wild around the neighborhood with the other kids, and I took a hands-off approach to raising her.

My husband, Toby Wright, was still alive at the time, and Hannah had a lively personality. Toby and I got along well and never felt the need to be overly strict with her.

One day, Hannah came home from school just as her great-aunt, Olga Porter, had passed away. It was also the first time in Hannah's life that I ever laid a hand on her.

Hannah carried this memory deep in her heart, and as she grew older, she would always say that I never loved her as a child and that I humiliated her by hitting her in front of so many people.

But did she even know what she had done?

It seemed people really could suffer from selective amnesia.

The footage continued playing.

After school, Hannah went with Toby and me to Aunt Olga's wake.

Aunt Olga lived in the countryside. She and Hannah weren't close at all, so Hannah wasn't the least bit saddened.

Having rarely been to the countryside, Hannah ran wild everywhere. At one point, she happened to come across a shepherd driving a flock of sheep along the road.

Hannah followed behind him and collected a whole bag of sheep droppings. She then carried the bag of sheep droppings into the funeral home.

Frantic, I pulled her over so we could pay respects to Aunt Olga together.

"Hannah, stop running around. Your great-aunt's passing is a very serious and sad matter. Come over here right now and pay your respects."

"Oh, fine," Hannah replied, reluctantly paying her respects to Aunt Olga.

At that moment, Hannah glanced at the crowd, and her face suddenly broke into a grin.

"There are so many people. This is going to be fun."

I had no idea what she meant at the time.

Suddenly, a relative shouted, "Why are there sheep droppings in the tea?"

Hannah immediately burst out laughing. "Oh my God, you people are so stupid! You can't even tell the difference between tea leaves and sheep droppings!"

Then, right in front of me, she pulled out handful after handful of sheep droppings and started flinging them wildly at the relatives.

It stank and was absolutely disgusting.

The relatives were seething with rage after being hit.

Hannah kept laughing and gleefully throwing the droppings everywhere, as if she were some kind of warrior queen.

"I'll take you, enemies, down!"

Hannah was my daughter, so no matter how naughty she was, I could never bring myself to hit her.

However, we were at a wake. In such a solemn and sorrowful setting, she had behaved so outrageously and even pelted the relatives with sheep droppings.

If I didn't discipline her, every relative in the village would point their fingers at me. It probably wouldn't have stopped there—they might have thrown Hannah out themselves.

Thus, I instantly erupted in anger.

"Hannah Wright, what do you think you're doing? You little brat! I'll teach you a lesson if it's the last thing I do!"

I only meant to give her a light beating and leave it at that. It wasn't like anyone could tell I was going easy on her anyway.

"This is child abuse! You can't hit me!"

The moment Hannah saw that I was about to strike her, she ran. That would've been fine except she went and climbed right into Aunt Olga's coffin.

"Let's see if you dare hit me now that I'm holding Great-Aunt Olga!"

By this point, there was no getting out of it—I had to give her a good beating.

I could see my cousins standing by, barely holding themselves back from disciplining her themselves.

I quickly pulled Hannah out of the coffin and gave her several hard smacks with a stick.

When this segment finished playing, Judge Steward fell silent for a moment.

"Hannah, I fail to see how this connects to your accusation of your mother's favoritism toward Rodney. If I were her, I would have hit you, too."

Hannah's expression darkened. "Even if what I did was wrong, would a mother who truly loved me really have the heart to hit me like that? The fact of the matter is, she never loved me! Play the next memory! The truth is all yet to come!"