The Heiress They Bullied

I was bullied by a group of girls, and one of them ruined my hand. When my father went to demand justice from the family of the girl who cut me, they threw him into a cesspit to humiliate him.

"It takes two to tango. If your daughter wasn't being shameless, why would my girl hit her? She didn't target anyone else, did she?" The wealthy mother sneered, throwing the medical expenses at my face. "If you want money to treat your hand, get on your knees and apologize to my daughter."

But in the end, my hand could never be healed. And that same rich woman later knelt before me, begging for forgiveness, repeating endless apologies.

Because, as it turned out, I was her biological daughter.

1

The afternoon I received a love letter from the school's golden boy, I had a bucket shoved over my head in the bathroom.

Cold water drenched me, soaking my thick winter coat and leaving me shivering as if encased in ice.

"Who is it? Why are you doing this to me?" I struggled to pull the bucket off, but someone shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the floor.

Foul water choked me as their punches and kicks rained down. Each blow left me gasping, the pain overwhelming my senses.

I screamed for help, but it was futile.

They stuffed something disgusting into my mouth. I gagged and retched but couldn't spit it out as they clamped their hands over my mouth.

Through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I saw her-Lindsay Francis, the infamous daughter of the school board chairman, towering over me with a look of utter disdain.

"Selena Andrews, a slut like you dares to think you're worthy of the golden boy's affection?" she sneered, holding a box cutter in her hand.

"Let's see if anyone still looks at you after I ruin that pitifully innocent face of yours."

I shook my head desperately, trying to explain that I didn't like the golden boy, that I'd never even tried to get close to him.

But I couldn't utter a single word. All I could do was watch as the blade came closer.

Instinctively, I raised my hand to block it. The sharp pain was searing as the blade tore through my palm, blood pouring out in a rush.

I trembled violently, spitting out the foul object as I screamed in agony.

2

Perhaps the sight of blood scared them.

The girls froze, exchanging hesitant glances before one of them turned to Lindsay.

"Maybe we should stop. There's so much blood-what if she dies?"

Lindsay hesitated, but her bravado didn't waver for long. "Relax. It's just a cut. She'll live."

She raised an eyebrow and delivered a chilling warning, "This was just a lesson. If I see you being a flirt again, I'll beat you every time I see you."

Then they left, leaving me in a puddle of my own blood. I crawled to the door, my hand throbbing with pain, only to find it locked.

I threw my weight against it a few times, but every part of me throbbed with agony. My strength had long abandoned me.

"Is anyone out there? Help! Please!" I cried out, my voice cracking.

My strength soon gave out. Exhausted and in pain, I slumped against the wall and lost consciousness.

When I woke up, my parents were by my bedside, tears streaming down their faces.

"My baby, you're awake!" my mother cried, clutching me tightly.

"Your hand," the doctor said, his voice heavy. "The injury is severe. It wasn't treated in time, and the infection from the contaminated water worsened the damage. I'm afraid it won't regain full function-it won't be capable of delicate movements anymore."

My mother, Meredith, broke down, clutching the doctor's arm. "No, please, there must be something you can do. She's been playing the piano for over a decade-it's her dream!"

But the doctor could only shake his head regretfully.

3

For as long as I could remember, I had poured my heart into the piano. My parents sacrificed so much to nurture my talent despite our modest means.

"Mom, I'm going to join the national symphony one day and make you proud."

"My little prodigy, I believe in you."

But now, as I stared at my hand wrapped in layers of bandages, the dream I had worked tirelessly for seemed to drift further and further out of reach. My vision blurred.

"I'm going to report them! They ruined my hand! They can't get away with this!"

Naive as I was, I thought justice would prevail-that those who had hurt me would face the consequences.

I wept, vowing to hold the people who had wronged me accountable under the law.

"My daughter can't suffer such injustice! I don't care who they are. I'll make sure they pay for this!" my father, James, declared, his voice trembling with rage.

From the moment I was admitted to the hospital, not a single one of the girls who had bullied me had shown their faces.

My father, indignant and heartbroken, gently wiped my tears and tried to comfort me. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I won't let you endure this without justice."

4

But as we were on our way to file a police report, several cars suddenly blocked our path.

Before we could react, a group of burly men surrounded our car and dragged us out forcefully.

"What do you think you're doing?" my parents shouted, shielding my injured hand as best as they could.

Then, stepping out of one of the luxurious cars, a poised and glamorous woman approached. Her beauty was striking, but the cold arrogance in her eyes made her look unapproachable, even cruel.

"I'm Lindsay's mother," she announced. "My daughter was spoiled growing up, and she might have been reckless. But she didn't mean any harm. We'll cover the medical expenses, but on one condition-you stop making a fuss about this. My daughter's reputation must remain intact."

Her dismissive tone turned my injury into nothing more than an inconvenience to be solved with money.

My mother trembled with rage. "Mrs. Francis, your daughter may be spoiled, but mine is no less cherished," my mother said, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "She was just a quiet student, focused on her studies, yet your daughter destroyed her hand-her future. This hand was meant for the piano, for her dreams. Do you really think money can wipe away that kind of pain?"

My father, just as incensed, added, "Since the incident, Lindsay hasn't even apologized! Our daughter's suffering isn't something you can buy your way out of. We may not have your wealth, but that doesn't mean we'll stand by and let you treat us like this."