When I was eighteen, I was raped. But no matter how many times I appealed, the perpetrator always managed to walk free with the help of a mysterious lawyer. My mom, while juggling her food delivery jobs, would comfort me: "Trust mom, evil will definitely be punished." Although I was heartbroken, I felt lucky to have my mom by my side, so I posted a video of her comforting me online. Unexpectedly, the video blew up the next day, and people started commenting. [Isn't your mom the most famous star lawyer in the legal world?] [And you say a lawyer can't help you with your rape case? Who could possibly beat your mom?] Seeing this, I was just about to go question my mom when I heard that nightmarish voice outside her door. "You're still the badass lawyer. Thanks to you, I haven't had to step foot in a courtroom all these years." My mom sneered: "Cut the crap. If it weren't to maintain my undefeated record, why would I be your defense attorney and harm my own daughter?" Hearing this, my phone... Smash. It slipped and fell to the floor. ... Hearing the noise, my mom walked toward the door. "Is that Chloe out there?" Her voice was as gentle as always, which is why I absolutely couldn't believe the lawyer hiding behind that man was my mom. The door opened. Looking into my mom's eyes, I asked with a trembling voice: "Mom, what were you just saying?" My mom avoided my gaze, "Nothing. You should go rest, Chloe. Mom has to go out and deliver food." Watching her fleeing figure, I finally couldn't hold back the tears slipping from my eyes. I grabbed her clothes, asking somewhat hysterically: "Mom, is it really you?" My mom didn't turn around, just kept repeating: "Chloe, mom doesn't understand what you're saying." With that, she pulled the hem of her clothes from my grasp. My hand was empty, and so was my heart. I knelt on the floor, masochistically reading through the video's comment section. [Is this girl just acting? Her own mom wouldn't help her?] [Maybe she seduced him.] [I told you so, who would just randomly rape someone on the street? It takes two to tango.] ... Tears smashed onto my phone screen, blurring the words and making it impossible to read what those people were saying. Ding-ding— A message popped up on my phone. [Didn't expect that, did you? The one defending me is your mother. The person who truly pushed you into the abyss isn't me, it's the person you love the most.] It was him. His words undoubtedly shattered my last shred of illusion, bluntly telling me that the one causing me pain all these years was the mother who loved me the most. I climbed up from the floor to pack my things. I had to leave this place. But the moment I held my suitcase and opened the front door, I regretted it. I wanted to give my mom and me one more chance. She gave birth to me and raised me; I didn't believe she truly had no love for me. Dragging my suitcase, I sat on the sofa, waiting for my mom to come home, waiting for her to give me an answer. 2 The darkness slowly swallowed me as I sat on the sofa. The door opened. My mom walked in, turned on the light, and was startled to see me sitting there. "Chloe, why are you sitting there?" I didn't speak, just held my phone up to her. Looking at the comment section, my mom's face slowly turned red. "Chloe, these people are lying to you." Although I had already guessed my mom's reaction, I still couldn't help but feel awful at this moment. I nodded and placed the text message that man sent me in front of her. "Is this lying to me too?" My mom looked at me, her mouth opening and closing, unable to speak. I grabbed her clothes, crying hysterically: "Why, Mom? You clearly knew everything! Why!" My mom seemed to fly into a rage out of humiliation, or perhaps she was provoked by my lack of respect. She shoved me to the floor. "He didn't have money for a lawyer, and the court directly assigned me as his public defender. What could I do!" I lay on the floor, looking at my mom. I had never seen her like this—irritable, breaking down. She pointed at me, "Do you think I wanted to! Do you think I wanted him to win! But I had no choice!" Through my sobs, I cried, "How could you have no choice? You clearly could have... could have given up defending him." "That would ruin my 100% win rate, I couldn't!" My mom's answer came without a moment's hesitation. The words I had prepared in my head were suddenly stuck in my throat. Seeing me sitting there in silent shock, her tone finally softened. "Chloe, mom didn't plan on letting you know about this. Now that you know, just don't appeal anymore." I scrambled up from the floor, losing control. "Why! Are you going to strip me of my right to appeal?!" My voice was loud, but the trembling in it was unmistakable. I didn't understand why. Did all my pain mean nothing compared to her 100% win rate? My mom sat on the sofa, looking at me standing in the middle of the living room, my face flushed with anger. "Do you think you can find a lawyer who can beat me? The money I give you isn't enough to hire a good lawyer." Her voice was full of smugness. Smug that she had prepared for this very situation. She didn't give me much money, just enough for basic food and clothing. In the past, whenever I asked her for money to hire a lawyer, she would pull out a few crumpled hundred-dollar bills from her pocket and say: "This is what mom earned from working early mornings and late nights delivering food recently. Take it to hire a lawyer. Mom will definitely put that man in jail!" But seeing her stooped back, I only took a few bills each time. That money was nowhere near enough to hire a decent lawyer, but I never blamed her. At that time, I truly believed she was out there every day, braving the elements to deliver food. Every night, I blamed myself. It turns out it was all a lie. Tears flowed uncontrollably. "Mom, if you promise me you won't defend him next time, I'll pretend I never knew any of this, okay?" 3 I begged humbly. I knew I should storm out the door right now, or at the very least, step forward and curse her out fiercely. But I still chose to beg, because she was my mom, and I knew she loved me. I knew the tears that fell on my hands when I was raped were real. I knew holding my hand day and night, afraid I would do something drastic and leave her, was real too. So I was willing, willing to give her one more chance. As long as she said yes. I looked at her full of expectation. She fell silent. My heart leapt into my throat. "No." My heart shattered. She looked at my swaying figure and said: "Chloe, as long as I win, I can give you a better life. What happened in the past is over, let's not dwell on it anymore." I don't know what gave her the right to think that what happened in the past was over for me. I backed away, "Mom, if you still insist on defending him, then pretend you never gave birth to me." She stood up and smashed the helmet she was holding onto the floor. "When are you going to stop throwing this tantrum! Can't we just live our lives in peace? It's been years, isn't that incident over for you yet!" I was startled by her outburst. So she really thought that my continuous appeals were my fault. I didn't want to talk to her anymore. Maybe we were destined to sever our ties. I pushed my suitcase and walked to the entryway. "Mom, I won't give up. I don't believe that injustice can truly overpower justice." I opened the door. Just as one foot stepped out, I heard my mom's voice. "Chloe Smith, if you don't want me as your mom anymore, then leave! And don't ever come back once you leave!" Without hesitation, I stepped out with my other foot. Mom, it wasn't you giving me a chance; it was me giving you a chance just now. Since you didn't want it, this is the only path left for us. I closed the door, shutting her voice inside. Dragging my suitcase down the stairs, I suddenly didn't know where to go. Was I really wrong? Should that incident really just be over for me? My phone rang again. It was another message from him. [Your mom told me you still plan to appeal? Heh, I'll be waiting.] What followed was an even more disgusting message. He said I wouldn't win, that my failure would give more people like him confidence, and that I would harm more girls. He said he still remembered how I tasted. My hand gripped the phone in a death grip. How could it be over! How could it! 4 I blocked him. I wanted him to lose. I wanted him and everyone who had such thoughts to know the consequences of doing this. I took out my phone and filed another lawsuit. I wouldn't stop before the statute of limitations ran out. But right now, I needed money, enough money to hire a better lawyer. I dragged my suitcase, found a random motel, and started a live stream. Because of the video I posted tonight, I gained a lot of followers. As soon as I started the stream, many people joined. The comments were still mostly about me. I didn't speak, waiting for the viewer count to rise. It quickly surpassed a hundred thousand. I finally started speaking. "Hello everyone, you probably know I'm the girl who was raped." As soon as I said this, the comments scrolled even faster. Most people called me indecent, saying how could I talk about something like this on a live stream. I ignored them and simply told the whole story of what happened to me. Gradually, the scrolling speed of the comments slowed down, and my voice choked with emotion. I still couldn't accept that the one who brought me pain was my mother. After finishing the story, I paused for a moment to calm my emotions before continuing. "I'm not saying this to play the victim, but I really have no money left to hire a lawyer. Can anyone help me? I can write you an IOU and pay it back as soon as I get a job." Suddenly, all kinds of virtual gifts filled my screen. Everyone in the comments was saying I didn't need to pay it back. Crying, I bowed to everyone. But in reality, there were still many negative voices in the comments. I ignored them all. Just as I was about to end the stream, there was a loud knock on my door. I walked over and asked: "Who is it?" "Miss Smith, it's... it's me bringing you water." It was the receptionist's voice, but for some reason, her voice was trembling. I opened the door. It was that man. He had a knife to the receptionist's neck. Seeing me open the door, he shoved her away. He charged in, "Damn it! You bitch! Do you want to die?! Who gave you permission to talk about this on a live stream? Do you have no shame?!" I knew why he was so angry. Because I had just said his name directly on the live stream. The shred of dignity he tried so hard to maintain was torn down by me. "You deserve it! If you hadn't done those things, what could I say? Besides, you're the one who should feel ashamed!" He took a few steps forward and grabbed me by the neck, "Dead woman, I'll kill you right now." I fell backward, not struggling at all. Because I knew that this way, his violent act would be broadcasted live in its entirety. This time, with hundreds of thousands of viewers as my witnesses, I didn't believe I would lose. 5 My eyes glanced at the phone screen to make sure this scene was captured. Only then did I start struggling. But the man still had a knife in his hand, and I couldn't overpower him. I could only use my hands to pull at the hand choking me so I could breathe. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, the receptionist finally rushed up with the security guards. Together, they pulled the man off me. I knelt on the floor, coughing incessantly, feeling like I was going to cough my lungs out. I said with a trembling voice: "Call... call the police!" "Don't call the police!" A panting female voice interrupted me. I looked up. It was my mother. Panting heavily, she said, "You can't call the police! Chloe, I forbid you to call the police!" Coughing, I replied: "Why? Didn't we say that once I walked out that door, we have no relationship anymore?" After saying that, I called the police. My mom tried to grab my phone, but I dodged her. Seeing that she was out of control, the security guards restrained her as well. Although their bodies couldn't move, their mouths didn't stop. Calling me a bitch one minute, saying raising me was a waste the next. Actually, hearing my mom curse at me still hurt a little, but only a little. I glanced at my phone. The live stream hadn't ended, and the viewer count was about to surpass two hundred thousand. The comments were scrolling so fast I couldn't even read a single one. The police arrived in less than five minutes. Seeing the police, my mom shouted loudly: "Officers, look at this! I didn't do anything, and they are restricting my personal freedom!" She spoke with such certainty that the police actually thought she was telling the truth. An officer walked over, patted the hotel security guard on the shoulder, and said: "Let them go for now." Only then did the security guards release them. As soon as my mom's hands were free, her mouth started again: "Officer, nothing really happened here. Look, they still insisted on calling the police and making you take a trip." The officer ignored her this time and first asked who reported the incident. I raised my hand, "I did." The officer looked at me for a moment. I noticed he saw my neck. He asked me: "Why did you call the police?" With tears in my eyes, I pointed at the man: "He tried to kill me." My mom swatted my hand away, "Officer, she's talking nonsense, just ignore it." The officer looked at her for a few seconds, "What's your relationship with the person who reported this?" "I'm her mother! So I definitely wouldn't lie to you!" She spoke firmly, stabbing another sword into my heart. The receptionist stepped forward and said: "Officer, what this girl is saying is true. This man really tried to kill her, and he even had a knife in his hand!" Her voice was shrill, clearly still shaken. Looking at the blood on her neck, I felt a pang of guilt. After all, it was because of me that she suffered this unprovoked disaster. The officer nodded, "Ma'am, do you have any other questions?" I watched my mom roll her eyes in thought for a moment before speaking: "Officer, this man is mentally unstable, that's why he went crazy just now. Look, isn't he perfectly normal now?" I looked at the red-eyed Liam Thorne. How come I didn't know he had a mental illness? I stepped forward and handed my phone to the officer, "Officer, I was actually live streaming the whole time. The process should have been recorded, you can take a look." "What!" Two shocked voices overlapped. Liam lunged forward, actually trying to snatch the phone from the officer's hand. The officer stepped aside to dodge him, "Are you trying to assault a police officer?!" "It's all fake! That bitch faked it!" Hearing this, I actually laughed, "I faked it? Hundreds of thousands of people in the live stream saw you trying to kill me, how could I fake that!" Seeing this, the officer had a rough understanding of the situation. He stepped forward and handcuffed Liam, "Come with us first." 6 My mom and I sat in one police car, while Liam sat in another. As soon as we got in the car, my mom said to me: "When we get there, you know how to speak, right?" I shook my head, "I don't know." "You!" She raised her hand to hit me, but looking at the police officer in front, she lowered it again. She lowered her voice and leaned close to my ear, "If you really want to be an orphan with no father or mother, then don't listen to me." Mimicking her, I leaned close to her ear and whispered: "Mom, from the moment I walked out that door, I was already an orphan with no father or mother. From now on, I fight for myself." She opened her mouth to say something else, but I pointed at the officer in front. She glared at me fiercely and stopped talking. I had already turned off the live stream. Right now, I was checking my dashboard, wondering if the money I made tonight was enough to hire a good lawyer. With trembling hands, I opened the dashboard and checked my earnings. Seeing the number, I let out a long sigh of relief. It was enough. I logged onto my account and posted a text message. [Thank you everyone. I have enough money to hire a lawyer now. Thank you all once again.] Soon, the comments under this post surpassed ten thousand. Some saw the live stream and asked how I was doing now. Some were those disgusting men, still saying getting raped was my own fault. And some offered to help me. I ignored those disgusting men. I replied to those who cared about me one by one. By the time we arrived at the police station, I still hadn't finished replying, and the number of unread messages kept growing. I had to put my phone away for now. Entering the police station, a police officer first took me to a small room. A female officer handed me a cup of water, "Drink some water first before we talk." I nodded gratefully and drank all the water in the cup. After finishing, she took out a notebook, "Next, I'll ask a question, and you answer, okay?" I nodded. "Okay. Do you know Liam Thorne?" "Yes." "How did you meet?" I fell silent. Even now, in front of these police officers, it was still hard for me to state the fact that he assaulted me. With my head down, I said quietly: "He assaulted me..." "I see." The female officer was a bit at a loss. She stepped forward and patted my shoulder, "We'll skip this question." I reached back and grabbed her hand, "Officer, isn't the footage from my live stream enough evidence?" Looking at my eyes welling up with tears again, she patted my head, "No, this is just a routine inquiry. Let's end our inquiry for now and see what your mother and Liam have to say." I nodded. She took the disposable cup from my hand, filled it with water again, and handed it to me. "Get some good rest here." After saying that, she walked out. Seeing her leave, I took out my phone and continued replying to comments one by one. I knew they cared about me, and even though we were separated by the internet, I still felt moved. I didn't want to disappoint their kindness. But the messages were coming in too fast. By the time she returned, I still hadn't finished replying. Seeing her come in, I put my phone away. "Officer, are they done with their questioning?" She shook her head, "No." Then she handed me a tube of ointment, "After we do the injury assessment later, apply some of this ointment." She pointed to her own neck. I smiled at her gratefully, then reached out and took the medicine she handed me. She then sat down on the stool, "What were you doing just now? Go ahead and continue. We don't have anything to do right now anyway." "Okay." I answered quietly. I opened my phone. This time I didn't reply to direct messages. I could reply to those anytime. I needed to find a lawyer first. I opened my contacts. I actually had many good lawyers added, but their prices were there, and I had no money. But I have it now. My money is enough to hire any lawyer on this list. 7 I carefully selected a chat and clicked on it. I chose her for three reasons: First, she is a woman. Only a woman can truly understand another woman. Second, she also has a 100% win rate. Let's see who's better, her or my mom. Third, she was the only lawyer out of so many who, after hearing my story, was willing to lower her price for me, even though I still couldn't afford it back then. [Attorney Carter, do you still have time to represent me for my case?] She replied very quickly, [Your evidence was so solid, you haven't won yet?] I picked at my fingers and waited a while before answering her, [I didn't have money the previous few times, so the ones I hired were uncertified, so...] I couldn't type anymore. I didn't know how to explain. Should I say that because I didn't have enough money, some of the lawyers I hired weren't even qualified to appear in court? And that person only told me an hour before the trial? Or should I say that sometimes I wasn't resolute enough? Looking at those photos, time and time again, I felt like I was back in that alley. From that moment on, my time seemed to stand still. My life had already been ruined. Seeing I didn't continue typing, she sent a message, [Okay, I should have some time recently. Find a time, and we can meet up.] [Okay, okay. Thank you, Attorney Carter.] I also sent an emoji. After dealing with this, I switched platforms and continued replying to comments. I waited for a long time before an officer pushed the door open and called me out. I tucked my phone into my clothes and walked out. "Now he has admitted to the fact that he hurt you. Do you want to settle privately or...?" I knew that man was very poor. So I said: "We can settle privately, but the price has to satisfy me." The officer nodded, "Since you're willing, then you guys talk it over first." He took me to the mediation room. This was the first time I sat across from my mom. "Since you came in, it means you agree to settle privately, right?" My mom spoke first. I nodded, "But if I'm not satisfied with the price, I wouldn't mind adding an attempted murder charge when I sue him in a few days." Liam grabbed the table and tried to stand up, but was pulled down by my mom. "So how much do you want now?" I didn't know how much they had prepared, and with the police here, I couldn't be too outrageous. So I had to ask them first, "How much do you plan to give me?" My mom looked into my eyes. Before she could speak, Liam beat her to it, "Three thousand! I just choked you a bit, three thousand max!" As soon as he said this, I knew it was his bottom line. I just needed to raise it a little more, and he wouldn't be able to handle it. I held up five fingers, "Five thousand, not a penny less." He finally couldn't hold it back and slammed the table, making it shake. "Five thousand? Are you obsessed with money? You did this on purpose tonight, didn't you!" I didn't argue with him, just waved my hand, "Five thousand, figure it out yourself." Sitting next to him, my mom had already turned bright red. Because if she had made the offer, she would have said fifteen hundred at most, leaving room for negotiation. She didn't expect Liam to be so stupid, revealing his bottom line right from the start. Seeing him stand up, my mom's neck swelled with anger. She stood up, pressed the furious man back into his seat, and then said to me: "Five thousand is too much. Even if the injury assessment comes out, we shouldn't have to pay that much." I shrugged, "Then let's go. Let's get it done." She fell silent, knowing her previous sentence was just a bluff. With my injuries and Liam's motive, paying me five thousand was completely justified. Over the years, for my own sake, I had studied law for a long time. Now I was practically in the field. My words left my mom speechless, so she sat back down. I waited for a moment, "Since you think you can't give me this money, let's consider this private settlement a failure." I got up to walk out. She yanked my clothes, just like I had grabbed her clothes before, "Chloe, just do it for mom's sake. How about three thousand five hundred?" I knew her current submissive attitude was because I had truly captured footage of Liam committing the crime this time. Otherwise, she wouldn't be acting like this. I pulled the hem of my clothes from her grasp, just as she had done to me, "Impossible. And don't forget, you said it yourself, I'm an orphan with no father or mother from now on." She looked at me, her eyes full of pleading. Inappropriately, I wondered, did I look like this in her eyes back then? Eyes full of pleading, so submissive and so pitiful. But she didn't feel sorry for me then, so I wouldn't feel sorry for her now. I didn't look at her again, turned around, and left.
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