"Mrs. Perez, I'll take care of the paperwork for these two personally. It's just that the principal has been hoping to open a new campus near the International Tower. Do you think you might be able to put in a word?"
Maria struck a magnanimous pose, like she was bestowing a favor.
"That's nothing. The International Tower belongs to my husband. You handle this cleanly, and forget one campus. I'll have him sign over ten."
The moment those words left her mouth, the parents' eyes lit up. One by one they crowded around Maria.
"Mrs. Perez, our family runs a premium flower farm. Whatever your husband's company needs, we'll supply it all, top-shelf quality, guaranteed!"
"Mrs. Perez, my husband's in architectural design! We'd love the chance to work with Mr. Perez."
Someone even pressed a thick stack of gift cards into her hand, promising favors on the spot.
Maria parted the crowd, walked up to me, and looked down at me. She leaned in close and deliberately lowered her voice.
"See that? That's the difference between us. One word from me, and every single one of them falls in line, begging for scraps."
"A homewrecker like you will never have what I have. While I'm still in a generous mood, take your little brat and leave the country. Don't ever let me hear your names again. Otherwise, your daughter losing her voice will be the least of her problems."
### Chapter 4
The words hit me like a physical blow. My whole body trembled as I looked down at Carly, crying without a sound.
It struck me then, the thing I'd been too overwhelmed to see. Carly hadn't been refusing to speak these past two days. She couldn't.
My stomach dropped. I crouched down and took her hands in mine.
"Carly, you can't speak, can you?"
She hiccupped through her sobs and nodded, her small face twisted in pain.
"Where else does it hurt? Tell Mommy. Don't be scared. Mommy won't let them get away with this."
I kept my voice soft, terrified she'd be too afraid to show me.
Carly stopped crying. She looked down at her feet.
I followed her gaze, and something inside me caught fire.
Her shoes were black, so I hadn't noticed before. But now I could see that one of them was darker than the other, the surface saturated with something wet.
My hands shook as I slipped the shoe off her foot. Cold flooded through me. Not fear. Rage.
The little toe on her right foot was a mangled mess of blood and flesh, crushed by something heavy.