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My Dad Sued Me for Throwing Up Novel Cover

My Dad Sued Me for Throwing Up

Seven-year-old protagonist faces a harrowing trial in My Dad Sued Me for Throwing Up after her father accuses her of being born wicked. Her constant vomiting has cost him his career and driven her brother, Bryce, to despair. While the court prepares to sever their blood ties and imprison her, she remains eerily calm. To prove her innocence, she demands the judge extract her memories—a painful process requiring her skull to be opened. As Bryce panics, a dark mystery begins to unfold.
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Chapter 2

Immediately, another commenter pushed back.

"If you feel sorry for her, why don't you adopt her yourself?"

The viewers erupted into a heated argument.

Just then, the first memory was successfully extracted and projected onto the large screen.

It was a scene from my first day of kindergarten.

On the very first day, my teacher declared me a genius. Though I couldn't speak, I possessed a nearly photographic memory.

After testing, my IQ was measured at 200, which was twice that of an average person.

Dad was overjoyed. He hired top tutors for me, vowing to nurture me into a prodigy.

Bryce even gave me his favorite toy, saying how incredibly proud he was to have such a genius for a sister.

But the very next day, I vomited all over Bryce's toy. And it was from that moment on that I suddenly fell seriously ill. My hands began to spasm, and I could no longer hold a pen.

The live chat scrolled rapidly.

"What's wrong with Estelle? That's a keepsake Kately left for Bryce! He couldn't even bear to play with the toy himself, yet Estelle just threw up on it?"

"But Estelle was indeed sick and suffering. Maybe she couldn't help it?"

"Couldn't she have vomited anywhere else? Did it have to be on the toy? She must've done it on purpose!"

The memory continued to play.

After my health recovered, I returned to kindergarten.

All the other kids gathered around to show their concern.

"My mom made this chicken soup. Have some—you'll feel better after drinking it."

Gratefully, I took the thermos. But the moment my lips touched it, I suddenly retched violently and threw up.

My classmate burst into loud sobs, and the classroom was left in a mess.

When the teacher came over to help clean up, I vomited right on her head.

"She's really manipulative, isn't she? Using the kindness of her classmates and the teacher to deliberately throw up on others!"

"Exactly! The hospital said she had already recovered, so her suddenly vomiting now must be on purpose!"

Upon hearing what happened, Dad immediately came to the kindergarten to pick me up. He humbly apologized on my behalf, then personally helped me change out of the filthy clothes and carefully washed me clean.

It took three full hours of work before everything was settled.

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Dad was just about to take a moment to rest when I began to vomit violently again.

This time, I threw up straight on the couch. The stench of decay filled the entire house, and the couch was completely ruined.

Dad was on the verge of a breakdown, yet he still patiently came over to clean up after me.

I wanted to open my mouth to say I was sorry. But as soon as I did, I suddenly began to laugh uncontrollably. The sharp, bizarre laughter was like nails scraping a chalkboard.

The steel needles churned wildly in my brain. I passed out completely from the pain, and the memory ended abruptly.

The live chat exploded again.

"Such a young age, and she's already so evil. If that's not a born monster, then what is?"

"Just eliminate her already! People like her are nothing but a scourge to society!"

Bryce put on a pained expression. "Estelle, please stop hurting yourself. Those past memories aren't just wounds for you—they're painful for Dad and me too. Must you tear everything open again and make everyone suffer all over?"

The comments immediately filled with mockery.

"As if she'd ever feel guilty! She probably gets a kick out of watching you clean up after her!"

Judge Lowery reviewed the memory fragments, frowning and shaking his head. "Ms. Fuller, after analysis by the judicial panel, you are still judged to be inherently malicious."

Clenching my teeth, I pressed the button to extract memories again.

The crowd gasped in shock, as the second memory extraction required the use of red-hot steel needles. No one was believed capable of enduring it.

I demanded Judge Lowery administer three stimulant injections to ensure I wouldn't pass out from agony.

As the steel needles plunged in, pain wracked my entire body, twisting me as my bones creaked and cracked.

Everyone said I had gone mad.

Minutes later, I was drenched in blood.

The second memory was projected onto the large screen.

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