Even though he and Fiona had once been intimate, he looked at her now like she was a stranger.
His voice was ice. "Since you brought it up, let's check the footage."
"Pull up everything. Let's see who started it and where those bruises really came from."
With Alvin's word, the security recordings from both the classroom and the office were retrieved in under ten minutes.
The footage was crystal clear. Fiona's nephew shoved Moira first.
Moira hit the wall and stayed there, head down, silent.
She didn't react until the boy's eyes darted sideways and he brought me into it.
"Is it because you're not really his kid? Is that why your dad dumped you?"
"Your mom's just used goods nobody wants! And she had you, you little bastard!"
Only then did Moira snap her head up, something inside her breaking loose.
She lunged at the boy and tackled him to the ground.
But before she could do anything else, the teacher rushed over and pulled them apart.
When Alvin's assistant moved to play the office footage next, Fiona's composure cracked. She grabbed the reluctant boy by the arm and dragged him in front of Moira.
Her apology dripped with rehearsed sincerity. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I was wrong to blame you."
"I'll have Tyler apologize right now. You're such a kind, generous girl—you'll forgive us, won't you?"
Guilt-tripping a child. Alvin's expression turned even colder.
He gave his assistant a nod. The footage kept playing.
It captured everything in sharp detail: Fiona deliberately pinching bruises into the boy's arm, fabricating evidence to frame Moira.
Every pair of eyes in the room turned on her. The looks were no longer sympathetic.
Fiona opened her mouth to explain, but the assistant cut her off without missing a beat.
"The harm you've caused Miss Walker and Mrs. James cannot be resolved with a flimsy apology."
"Please come with me. Our legal team will discuss the matter of compensation with you in detail."
The truth was out. The people who had been tormenting us minutes ago were escorted from the room.
Moira finally broke. She wrenched free of Alvin's hand and threw herself into my arms, sobbing so hard her whole body shook.
"Mommy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"Mommy, don't apologize for me, please—I'm sorry, Mommy..."
My nose burned. I held her tight, as tight as I could.
"It's not your fault. I'm the one who didn't realize you were miserable at this school."
"I'm the one who couldn't protect you. I should be apologizing to you."
After the divorce from Alvin, I lost the designer bags, the jewelry, all of it. Moving out of the mansion and into a tiny rental with Moira never bothered me.
But her school was different. Her school was the reason I dragged myself out of bed before dawn every single day to sell breakfast burritos until my hands cracked. Every dollar went toward keeping her enrolled.
I wanted her to have the best education money could buy.
What I forgot was that even the best school is still a miniature society.
Teachers and students alike adjust their treatment based on who your parents are.
When I was Mrs. James, Moira was the little princess everyone fawned over.
The moment I left the marriage with nothing and became a street vendor, her standing collapsed overnight.
The same teacher who had stood by while Moira was bullied was now drenched in cold sweat. He bowed and apologized, over and over.
Neither Moira nor I acknowledged him.
My mind was already working through the logistics of transferring her to a new school.
Alvin finally spoke. "Hailey. We need to talk."
I was quiet for a moment, then nodded.
I was about to follow him out when someone grabbed my sleeve and held on tight.
"Hailey, where are you going with him?"
