I pressed my hand to my chest, the pain still throbbing, watching the car disappear down the street.

The lawyer helped me up, his voice soft but stern. "The Graham Family’s got serious power in Javelin. They can make it look like they’re untouchable. You, with no one left, won’t win against them.

"Why not just take the money and sign the letter of apology? It’ll all be over then. I heard you got into a good school. If you keep pushing this, you could ruin your future. Don’t make a mistake you’ll regret."

I couldn’t stop myself. In one swift motion, I tore up the letter, my anger pouring out. My mom was still in the ICU, fighting for her life, and they were offering me money like it could fix anything. What future did I even have left?

I ended up kneeling outside the police station, but they wouldn’t do anything. Kingston’s family had too much power, too many connections.

The cop gave me a sympathetic look. "Without evidence, there’s not much we can do. You can’t fight someone like that. The smartest move is to take the money and move on. Life goes on, you know?"

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me. I had heard these kinds of words too many times over the years.

My father died when I was young, and my mom raised me by herself. We were always seen as the outsiders, the people no one cared about.

The kids at school made fun of me for the smell of fish that came home with me every day, excluding me, bullying me. My mom took it all, never complaining, and I just stayed quiet, never fighting back.

We had learned to endure just to survive, but it still wasn’t enough. Now, my mom was lying in the ICU, and I wasn’t about to forgive them for what they’d done.

The lawyer handed me another letter, trying again. "This is the reality now. Do you really think Mr. Graham is going to pay for what happened to your mom? You want to keep fighting? We can at least give you 15 thousand dollars for the trouble."

I didn’t want their money. I just wanted the bastard who hurt my mom to pay.

The lawyer’s patience wore thin. “This is the best offer you’re gonna get. If you keep refusing, I can’t help you anymore. Seriously, girl, think about it. It’ll get worse for you if you keep pushing back.”

Right then, my phone buzzed. It was the admissions office. “Sorry, but we’ve canceled your admission. The school is full, and we’re returning your documents.”

I couldn’t believe it. Just last month, the admissions officer came to my house, practically begging me to choose their school. They even offered a tuition discount.

I looked at the lawyer, and suddenly I got it.

“I’m telling you this because you’re young,” he said. “The Graham Family’s got power, so stop thinking about appealing. Losing the spot at that school is just a warning. You’re on your own here.”

He shoved the apology letter in front of me, trying to put the pen in my hand.

I started to wonder—was it really true that they could get away with this? Was it my mom’s fault for selling fish next to Tyler’s stall?

We hadn’t done anything wrong.

I pulled my hand back and shoved him away. “I’m not signing it. The bastard who did this is going down.”

The cops wouldn’t help, so I went to the courthouse. But no lawyer wanted anything to do with my case, so I stayed up all night searching for a complaint template online.

When I finally made it to the court, they kicked me out for not following the right steps.

Then the doctor called, reminding me to pay the bills. My mom was still in the ICU, and the money was disappearing fast. All the savings I’d set aside for college were gone now.

I had to use my dad’s card. After paying, I leaned against the cold wall, drained and completely defeated.

A heavy weight of depression made it hard to breathe.

My dad died while on a mission at the border. My mom didn’t want me to know the truth, so she told me he was just working far away.

She put all the money he sent into a card, saying it was for when I grew up and got married. But our house was small, and I found his medals and certificates with hardly any effort.

The card was just his pension money. And once that was gone, there was one less thing left from him.

Tears kept streaming down my face, but when I looked through the glass at my mom, hooked up to machines in the ICU, it all felt worth it.

They had tried to cover their tracks, but I wasn’t letting them get away with it. I had to expose them. So, I went online.

I created an account and posted the video of them beating my mom.

[Reporting under my real name: Tyler Graham and his son, Kingston, from Javelin, destroyed my fish stall and beat my mom into the ICU!]

[The police won’t help, the court won’t listen, so I’m turning to the internet for justice.]

The video went viral, and the city started talking.

[This is inhumane! They’re out of control!]

[How is this still happening in Javelin after everything we’ve heard about fighting gangs? The authorities need to step up!]

[Don’t worry, little girl. The bad guys will pay.]

But, of course, they quickly suppressed the post. I didn’t back down though. I kept posting.

First, the principal called me. “Are you crazy? This is seriously damaging the school’s reputation! Delete the video or I’ll put a serious demerit on your record. You won’t get into high school or college!”

I wasn’t about to back off. If I couldn’t get justice for my mom, then what was the point of all those years in school?

Then the lawyer showed up. “What’s wrong with you? Are you out of your mind? You’re posting lies online! Delete everything, or I’ll sue you for defamation and ruining the Graham Family’s reputation!”

I shot him a cold stare and said, “Go ahead, sue me. I’ll take it all the way to court and expose everything live.”

He stopped, clearly taken aback, then shot back, “You’ll regret this.”

I didn’t stop. I kept posting. Sure, they tried to bury my videos, but people still started backing me up. Then, the next day, some account claiming to get the real truth out posted a video.

It showed my teachers, classmates, friends, even neighbors, all tearing me apart. “Samantha James is lying. Her mother didn’t pay her debts, so the people who came to collect destroyed her stall and hurt her. Now she’s trying to frame the Graham Family.”

“They’re one of the wealthiest and most generous families in Javelin. What’s she trying to pull?”

Soon, the paid accounts flooded in, spreading more lies.

[Seriously, how is an orphan and widow running a successful fish stall? There’s gotta be more to the story.]

[You can’t always blame others. Maybe the call is coming from inside the house.]

[Good thing people can see through her nonsense.]

The Graham Family had the money and connections to pay people to spread lies. Then my video got flagged as inappropriate, and a few days later, my account was shut down.

It felt like I was sinking into ice-cold water. Was this really happening? Was there really no way to fight back?

But then, the doctor called to tell me my mom was out of danger and had been moved to a regular room.

I held her weak, frail hand and cried, relieved. But when I looked at her, wrapped in bandages, all I could feel was rage toward Tyler and his son.

A random number popped up on my phone, and when I clicked the message, my stomach dropped. Tyler had sent people to tear up my house.

The video showed our puppy, beaten and bloody, barely moving, curled up in the wreckage, whimpering in pain. I could almost hear the sounds of that day in my head, the sight of my mother getting hurt, my heart pounding all over again.

“You stupid woman, I told you to quit that business, but you wouldn’t listen. You deserve this!

“You want to steal from me? You’re asking for trouble! If you don’t back off, I’ll sell your daughter to whoever wants her.”

His cruel words, mixed with my mother’s desperate screams, kept repeating in my mind, making it feel like my head was in a vice.

I felt sick, dizzy, my legs giving out from under me. I sank to the ground, barely holding onto my phone.

And then Tyler called, the video popping up on my screen. The wreckage of my house was behind him, broken chairs and tables everywhere.

“You little bitch. Because you had the nerve to post those videos, my son is pissed and now I can’t even run my business. You did this to yourself! Sign the apology letter, or your mother’s not staying in that hospital for long.”

He flashed a picture of him and the doctor standing next to my mom’s bed.

I was shaking with rage. “Touch my mom again, and I swear—”

Tyler just laughed, grabbed a family photo off the wall, and smashed it to the floor, stepping on it like it meant nothing.

“What are you gonna do? My son runs things in Javelin now. You think anyone’s gonna care if I crush you? You’ve got no one. Just an orphan with no man to protect you. One call to the hospital, and your mom is out of there—on the street.”

He hung up. The dark screen stared back at me, showing my face twisted with anger and helplessness.

But I couldn’t let myself break down. I ran out, jumped in a cab, and went home as fast as I could.

When I got there, the place was destroyed; furniture shattered, clothes and blankets stained with God knows what.

And there was the puppy, dead, curled up next to the family portrait they had ruined.

"These bastards!" I shouted, my voice shaking with fury. My eyes were burning with rage, and I could barely see through the tears welling up.

I grabbed my phone, filmed the damage, and sent it straight to the police. "They smashed my house, and you guys are just sitting back and doing nothing?"

When the cops showed up, the surveillance footage was gone, of course, Tyler had gotten to it first. The officer sighed like this was all too much. "Look, without evidence, there's not much we can do. Just sign this and take the settlement."

The neighbors who’d been watching all this unfold started chiming in, like they were experts on the situation. “Stop being stubborn. You can’t fight the Graham Family. Take the money, and move on. Find something else for you and your mom.”

"Just let it go. You’re not gonna win against them. You’ll just make things worse for all of us."

It was like a punch to the gut, hearing this from people I thought cared. They didn’t even flinch when the situation turned ugly.

I stared at the destruction in my house, and I had no doubt they could make good on their threats to kick my mom out of the hospital if I didn’t back down.

Was this really it? Was it really impossible to get justice? I could feel the weight of the tears pushing at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away.

Didn’t the teachers say this was supposed to be a fair world? A world where the bad guys got what was coming to them? All I wanted was for the people who destroyed my life to face some consequences. Was that really too much to ask?

I picked up the family photo from the floor, wiping off the dirt with my sleeve. My dad’s smile was frozen in time.

I couldn’t remember much of his face anymore, but I could still see him walking toward me in his uniform, waving with that proud smile.

They talked about soldiers on the news, about how brave and selfless they were, how they gave everything to defend the country. But what about their families? Were we not supposed to get any justice either?

They thought they could get away with everything because we were just a widow and her daughter, with nothing to protect us.

But if I couldn’t get justice here, then I was going to the Central Military Region. I wasn’t going to let them erase my father’s legacy without a fight.

I grabbed the medal and hopped on a green train, spending a whole day and night just to get there.

When I finally arrived at the gates of the unit where my father served, I stood up straight, holding the medal above my head with both hands, my eyes full of tears. "Sir, I don’t want this medal anymore. Can you just give me my dad back?"