In Court, They Lost More Than the Case

Bruce and Sean exchanged a glance. Defiance instantly filled their eyes. It was as if they were trying to pierce a hole through me with their glares alone.

But I held their gazes, unfazed. My stance made it clear that I wouldn't agree to their suggestion unless they licked my feet.

Eventually, they had no choice but to lean toward my feet.

Just as they were a few inches away from my toes, I suddenly kicked them to the ground. Sean's palm scraped against the floor and split open.

I looked at them condescendingly, pretending to be unaware of their apparent misery. "You think filthy mouths like yours are worthy of touching my feet? Just drink the water I washed my feet with instead."

With that, I stood up and dumped the entire basin of water over their heads.

The screen turned black.

The audience in the courtroom was livid.

"Skin disease isn't the only issue. If anyone gets exposed to such contaminated water, they'll definitely get diarrhea!"

"How heartless can she possibly be? She actually had the heart to make her child drink the water she washed her feet with."

"Wanda's a cruel bitch. That's literally water she washed her feet with! Who knows what kind of fungus she's got? The kid could get a full-on skin infection!"

I shot a glare at the agitated crowd and snapped, "That's none of your concern. Even if the water was contaminated, they were willing participants.

"Or do you want some too? It's too bad that dirty water isn't going to satisfy you. But I can still stuff your face with my shoe!"

I yanked off my shoe and hurled it at my neighbors.

At that moment, as if to validate their claims, a hospital ward scene from the extracted memories materialized on screen.

Sean was lying in bed, his eyes red and swollen as he sobbed through the phone. "Mom, Dad and I got acute gastroenteritis from drinking the water you washed your feet with last night. Can you come see us at the hospital?"

Bruce snatched the phone from him. "Wanda, Sean's been craving your stew. Shouldn't you at least visit him, no matter how busy you are? You're still his mother, after all."

On the other end, I seemed occupied and irritable.

"What the hell are you mumbling about?" I yelled. "Speak up!"

"I said that Sean and I are both sick…"

As he spoke, both their stomachs suddenly gurgled. Bright streaks of blood pooled beneath them on their bedsheets, much like signs of their withering health.

Seeing blood gush out of their backsides, Bruce was terrified.

"Wanda, I don't care what you're doing now. Come to the hospital this instant," he sputtered. "Sean's bleeding out of his butt—only because he drank the water you washed your feet with!"

Beside him, Sean had curled up on the bed.

"Mom…" His voice was trembling. "My stomach hurts. Can you please come and make me feel better?

"I'm so scared, Mom. I'm scared I'll bleed to death and never see you again… Mom, can you please come and see me one last time?"

I scoffed on the other end of the phone. "It's just some bleeding. It's not like you're about to die.

"But if you really do die, I'll come when the hospital calls me to collect your corpse."