Selling My Mom Made Me Public Enemy No. 1

The reporters all drew in sharp breaths.

Camera flashes burst in front of me, relentless and blinding, making it almost impossible to keep my eyes open.

Within moments, my words were plastered across newspaper headlines and trending online.

The comments were filled with pure hate.

"Where's the justice? She killed her own dad, drove her mom insane, and now she has the nerve to say it's their own fault!"

"Everyone, go to the court website and file a joint appeal. That criminal cannot be let off this time!"

My home address and contact info were posted online for everyone to see.

On the way back, people immediately recognized me. Suddenly, trash and soda bottles came flying at me. I was pelted from all sides, and soon I was drenched in filth.

When I finally reached home, Eve Duncan, my landlady, was pacing by the door anxiously.

She looked at the wall streaked with red paint and said helplessly, "Hope, I know you're not the monster everyone online says you are. But if you keep living here, I don't even want to imagine what they'll do to my house."

She wouldn't meet my eyes as she said that. Then, she let out a heavy sigh.

I gave a wry smile, knowing she was trying her best as well. So, I smiled bitterly and simply said, "I know, Eve. Give me a little time. I'll move out right away."

While packing, I tuned in to Grace's livestream, as I usually did.

Mom seemed to be having a breakdown. She was clutching at her stomach and crying, "Give me back my son! My son!"

Grace, sitting in front of the camera, sobbed theatrically for the viewers. "When I was little, Dad told me Mom had been pregnant, less than two months along. They spent tens of thousands on IVF, and we'd been looking forward to having a baby brother.

"But when Mom was abducted and taken into the mountains, those people beat her so hard she lost the baby."

The chat exploded.

"That vile brat probably couldn't stand her parents having a son, so she had to wipe out their whole family!"

"The poor baby was still so tiny and precious, yet he was killed by his own sister before he even had a chance to be born."

"Mark my words, she'll get what's coming to her!"

I knew all of this already, way earlier than Grace did.

The haters weren't wrong. If there hadn't been a baby brother, I wouldn't have chosen to sell Mom to the traffickers.

Once I packed my things, I turned off the livestream and headed to the hotel.

Then, out of nowhere, a bag was thrown over my head.

Everything went black. I felt a massive force pin me down, making resistance impossible.

The cold, grimy water under me stank, and it made me realize I'd been dragged into a narrow alley.

A punch landed square on my face, causing my head to spin.

Someone said excitedly, "You're the one they've been talking about online who sold her mom, right?"

"Let's see how you like being on the receiving end!"

They pressed lit cigarettes into my thighs and arms, and someone whipped a belt across my back and waist.

I lost track of how long it went on. Just before I blacked out, faint sirens echoed in the distance.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

Grace's missed calls were flashing on my phone screen, so I called back immediately.

She had gotten wind of my current state. Her tone dripped with false concern as she said, "Hope, after all this, you still won't come to Mom and admit you were wrong?"

I stayed silent.

She mistook it for agreement and continued with glee, "You're going to apologize a hundred times to her and hand over all your assets. Even if the court cleared you of any crime, you'll have to stay glued to Mom's side every day. Consider it house arrest. Do this, and I'll beg the internet to forgive you."

I let out a snort, a spark of anticipation rising in me.

So that was her real goal.

I replied evenly, "Okay, don't go back on your word."

When I had recovered enough, I grabbed my things and went to the hospital where Mom and Grace stayed.

Everyone was waiting in the livestream, ready to judge me, the so-called criminal.

Even the front of the building was swarmed with reporters, desperate for the first dibs on the story of the "ungrateful daughter".

The moment Mom saw me, she immediately recognized me. My face hadn't changed much since I was ten.

Her confused mind seemed to think it was 20 years ago. She straightened up with her eyes blazing and pointed at me fiercely.

"You worthless brat! I'm selling you and your sister! So that my baby boy can marry well!"