Chronically Lying Daughter

Eric’s expression remained sullen from the moment we exited the police station. When we reached home, he raised his hand to hit Cecelia.

“Are you dumb? How could you tell others that we were human traffickers?”

Eric wore a hideous expression and slapped Cecelia’s hips, making her cry in pain.

That scene filled me with joy. I wondered why he would do that, since he had disapproved of how I scolded Cecelia.

But that fact escaped him when he was in my shoes.

I hurriedly pulled Cecelia into my arms and touched her head as a form of consolation.

“Darling, she’s just mischievous. Don’t be mad at her. What if you hurt her?”

Eric’s hands shook as he pointed a finger at Cecelia and said, “Do you know why I’m so mad? When she was spouting her lies, one of my important clients happened to be there. He wanted to cut ties with me when he saw that scene. How would I explain that to my boss?! But you defended her. Maybe she’ll do something bad again!”

No wonder he was so mad when he came home. It turned out that his work had been affected.

I interrupted him calmly, “It’s just a client. We finally got Cecelia home to us. Be nice to her. And watch your tongue. She’s just an ignorant kid. Stop making a fuss.”

While talking, I hugged Cecelia and looked at Eric with disdain.

“Are you trying to blame her when you failed to do your job well?”

Eric never once believed a five-year-old child could lie. Before I could explain it to him during my previous life, he had pushed the blame on me. I remembered everything he had said to me and echoed the same words back to him. I wondered how he felt to be wrongly accused.

Anger swept over Eric. Eventually, he left in a huff. “Yeah, go ahead and spoil her!”

I touched Cecelia’s head and tried to comfort her. “There, there. I’ll drive you to the kindergarten tomorrow.”

Cecelia looked at me with horror. She seemed to be afraid of me.

Confusion gripped me. I had done nothing out of the ordinary and could not understand why she was afraid of me.

Eric did not come home that night. He was probably infuriated.

After putting Cecelia to bed, I started searching around the house.

When I drove Cecelia to the kindergarten in my previous life, the teacher found those photos in my bag.

Naturally, someone must have taken those photos and kept them in the house.

I searched all the rooms and finally found a locked iron box under Cecelia’s bed.

I tried unlocking it using her birthday, but it was wrong.

Then, I tried using Eric’s birthday. It was unlocked. I was struck dumb when I opened the box. At that moment, I finally solved the puzzling mystery. I finally understood why my daughter had tried all means to get me killed.