Chronically Lying Daughter

My five-year-old daughter loved telling lies.

I had taken her out to a simple school supplies run, but she yelled on the street that I was a human trafficker.

Consequently, I nearly got arrested and taken to the police station. When we went home, she cried and threw herself in my husband’s arms to complain about me before I could say anything.

“Dad, Mom wouldn’t buy me stationeries. She even hit me on the street!”

I offered my husband an explanation. He heard me out, but I did not expect him to angrily slap me when I was finished.

“Our daughter is only five. She can’t lie. Can’t you just put up with it?!”

When I drove my daughter to school, she got down on her knees in front of me while the other parents were around.

“Mom, please let me go to school. I don’t want to take naked photos for those guys.”

When the teacher checked my phone, it was full of my daughter’s explicit photos.

A mob of angry parents pushed me into the traffic, killing me.

I could not figure out why my biological daughter would behave that way, even as I lay dying.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day when I was about to buy stationery for my daughter.

“Cece, we’re taking you out to buy some stationeries. We’ll make you the happiest princess.”

Cecelia Riley, our daughter, turned down Eric Riley, my husband’s offer, without any hesitation. She approached me and held my sleeves.

“Dad, I want to go shopping with Mom, just like the other kids do. Can you go shopping with me?”

Cecelia was raised in the countryside and had finally returned home.

Of course, Eric would not turn her down.

“Dear, I’ll give you more money later. Just buy whatever she wants. She’s still young. We owe it to her.”

Those familiar words unsettled me. My breath caught in my throat.

I realized that I had returned to the past.

In my previous life, I had obeyed my husband and happily went to the shopping mall with our daughter to buy some school supplies.

Unexpectedly, Cecelia insisted on buying a sharp utility knife when we reached the mall.

I had told her that it was too sharp.

She agreed with me and explained that children should not use knives.

I was pleased to hear that. But I got worried that she would distance herself from me, as I had not raised her. Hence, I played some games with her.

I did not anticipate her sitting on the floor at the mall entrance.

She cried with anguish, “Don’t take me away! Save me. She’s a human trafficker!”

The mall was full of people who hurriedly came over when they heard her cries for help.

I tried my best to explain myself to them. With much difficulty, I was about to finally convince them when Cecelia pointed at me and said, “She’s a human trafficker. She wants to kidnap me.”

The furious onlookers quickly called the cops. They took me to the police station for a statement before I was allowed to go home.

I could not understand why my usually obedient daughter would make up such a lie at the mall.

Fury gripped me, and I planned to teach her a lesson.

Unexpectedly, when we reached home, she threw herself into Eric’s arms to complain about me.