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The “Useless Parent” Who Built a Kindergarten Novel Cover

The “Useless Parent” Who Built a Kindergarten

After her polymath daughter is rejected from a prestigious school despite a massive donation, an Ivy League graduate faces mockery for her supposedly low social status. The admissions staff insults her qualifications, claiming she is the worst-ranked parent. Tensions peak when the lead teacher boasts about her husband's exclusive Rolls-Royce and its rare license plate. Recognizing the vehicle as her own husband's car, the protagonist realizes a deep betrayal and begins a journey of revenge and truth.
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Chapter 3

Cruel Teacher

Harmony? But she was supposed to be in the car. I told her to stay there. My daughter was a timid child. Everything that was happening here would scare her!

"Harmony, get back into the car, now!" I said, my voice was breaking from panic.

"You were out too long, Mom. I was scared…" Harmony cried as she ran up to me, but Samantha scooped her up by the waist.

"So you're the little brat?"

"Let me go! Don't hurt my mom! You're meanies!" Harmony flailed her arms and legs and punched Samantha's chest.

"Your mother's a bitch, and you're no better. Stay still, or I'll gouge your eyes out!" Samantha's eyes dripped venom, and she pulled on Harmony's cheeks as hard as she could.

My daughter cried loudly. "Mom! Save me, Mom!"

My heart was hurting, burning from pain. "Let her go! Come at me if you're human! Leave the girl alone!"

My face was twisted, and I tried to get back up.

"She's moving again." Samantha gave the guards a look.

One of them sneered and slammed his palm into my cheek. Again and again he slapped me, until my cheeks were red and swollen.

The pain robbed me of my ability to speak, and my collar was creased from all the tugs.

"Don't hit my mom! Please!"

"You want us to let her go? Sure?"

Samantha smiled and pointed at the trash bin. "Get on all fours and crawl into that thing. And also, you must say 'I'm trash' ten times. Do that, and I'll let your mother go."

Everything stopped. My mind was blank. Harmony was always the more sensitive one among her peers. She was on the spectrum and needed more care.

If she crawled into the bin and called herself trash, it would leave an indelible mark on her heart. Her life would be ruined. I'd rather die than let that happen!

"Harmony, no…" I tried to say, but the pain did not let me. I shook my head violently and made a vague sound. "Don't listen to her…"

But my daughter, my sweet, lovely daughter, smiled at me though she was shivering. "It's alright, Mom. They'll stop hitting you if I do this."

Then she turned around and went on all fours. My little bundle of love was crawling into that trash bin. The brown filth tainted the edges of her dress, and the air was filled with a rancid stench.

A layer of black grime painted itself on her face, and Harmony curled up in the bin. The stench was making her retch.

The sight was cleaving my heart in two, and I thrashed wildly. "Let her go, you bastards!"

Then the guards slapped me.

"Now say 'I'm trash,' or I'll keep beating your mom!"

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