They Framed My Daughter, I Fought Them All

My daughter went to my Seafood Buffet Restaurant with her classmates for dinner.

As the evening grew dark, I went to pick her up, only to hear the receptionist yanking at her collar and shouting:

“Cheap little brat, never been to a high-end buffet before? Don’t you know the drinks here can’t be taken out?”

“Thieving little slut, back in the day they’d have cut your hand off for this!”

“Our restaurant loses money every month, all because of people like you!”

My daughter, Sophie Miller, turned pale with fear and tried to explain:

“I didn’t steal anything. This drink is from earlier today. My mom gave it to me to take to school.”

The receptionist snapped back viciously:

“A kid this young already lying? This drink is imported, over three hundred dollars a bottle. You think you can afford it?”

She raised her hand to strike Sophie, but I rushed forward to block her and shouted:

“Stop! What right do you have to hit my daughter?”

The receptionist looked me up and down, then spat:

“No wonder you raised a thief, protecting her like that.”

Shaking with rage, I forced myself to dial the manager’s number:

“What kind of employees are you training? Get over here right now!”

…

Not long ago I had just moved Sophie from San Francisco to New York and hadn’t had time to inspect these chain restaurants.

I never expected such a ridiculous scene on my very first visit.

Soon, an impatient female voice came through the phone:

“Lady, who the hell are you?”

“What my employees do is none of your business!”

“Mind your own damn business!”

I was dumbfounded by her arrogance. Before I could reply, she hung up.

The receptionist folded her arms, sneering:

“And who do you think you are to demand our boss show up? Our boss is Mr. Shaw’s girlfriend.”

“A country bumpkin like you probably doesn’t even know who Mr. Shaw is, huh?”

“Well, let me tell you. That’s Edward Shaw, the wealthiest man in New York. When he stamps his foot, the whole city shakes.”

“You dare cause trouble in his girlfriend’s restaurant? You must have a death wish!”

Her words made my eyes turn cold.

Wasn’t Edward Shaw my husband?

Since when did he have a girlfriend?

Sophie tugged at my sleeve and whispered, “Mom, is she talking about Dad?”

Hearing this, the receptionist, Rachel Lee, mocked cruelly:

“Little bastard, stop claiming fathers you don’t have. You think you deserve to be Mr. Shaw’s daughter?”

“Not only do you steal, you even want to steal a dad. Disgusting!”

At that, the surrounding crowd began whispering:

“This girl is really full of it. Everyone knows Mr. Shaw’s wife and kid live in San Francisco. How could they be here?”

“Kids these days, so vain. She’s clearly poorly raised.”

Sophie’s classmates exchanged glances and edged away from her.

One boy put his hands on his hips:

“Sophie, you’re such a fake. Your last name is Miller, not Shaw!”

“Besides, every Parent-Teacher Conference your mom shows up alone. We’ve never seen your dad. I don’t think you even have one!”

Other kids chimed in:

“Yeah, liars are bad kids. If you keep lying, we won’t play with you anymore!”

Hearing her friends, Sophie’s little face turned chalk-white.

She bit her lip and said softly:

“I’m not lying. My last name is Miller because I take after my mom. But my dad’s name really is Edward Shaw.”

Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically:

“Filthy liar, spitting out one lie after another. Aren’t you afraid your tongue will rot?”