On the third day of my business trip out of state, someone new joined the group chat formed for my son's class. It had been quiet for weeks when she suddenly sent a voice message.

I tapped it, and an unfamiliar woman's voice played through my phone.

"Hello, everyone. I'm the new language teacher at the school, and I'm also Tony Gardner's mother. Looking forward to getting to know you all!"

My whole body went cold. I opened the group member list and checked it over and over.

My son's name was Tony Gardner, and she said she was Tony Gardner's mother. Then, who the hell was I?

I immediately called my husband.

"Did someone get added to the parent group by mistake?"

He paused on the other end before he laughed it off like it was nothing. "Oh, probably just a mix-up. The school has so many kids. It's not unusual for kids to have the same names. What's the matter? Did something happen?"

I kept my voice light and told him everything was fine. The second I hung up, I booked the next flight home and headed straight to my son's school.

The plane landed, and I went straight to my son's elementary school by cab.

My son, Tony Garnder, was seven years old and was in first grade. It was currently 1:40 pm. The first class of the afternoon had just started.

The security guard was diligent. The moment he learned I was a parent, he called the homeroom teacher. A few minutes later, a young woman in a white blouse and a black skirt came running out. She looked fresh out of college.

Her appearance was ordinary, but her voice was gentle and soft when she spoke. My intuition as a woman told me she was exactly who I was looking for. Sure enough, the second she saw me, she panicked.

Her face went deathly pale, and her hands trembled uncontrollably, like she had just come face-to-face with a wild animal.

"I-Is there something you need at the s-school?" Her voice shook so badly that she could barely get the words out.

Yet, she had the nerve to announce in the group chat that she was Tony's mother.

"I saw the message in the group."

Right in front of the security guard, I laid it all out.

"You said you're Tony's mother? I'm curious about that."

Her hands tightened at her sides for a split second. Then, she glanced nervously at the guard and forced a smile as she explained, "Oh, that. It's because the school has a parent-teacher conference coming up, and Tony's father said he and his wife are both too busy to attend.

"He asked me to pretend on their behalf so that Tony wouldn't be sad. I'm really sorry if this has caused you any trouble!"

It was the perfect explanation. Not only did it clear her of any wrongdoing, but it also threw shade at me for being away on business. If I had not studied her social media posts carefully, I might have actually believed her.

8:00 pm on Wednesday, she posted a photo of a man's back. He had bought her roses, and they were at the theater. The caption read: [The man I love isn't a prince. He's a king.]

The next day, I ended up in the hospital with an allergic reaction to flowers.

6:00 pm on Friday, during a torrential downpour, she posted a selfie of herself taking shelter under the school eaves. The caption read: [When will my king come pick me up and take me home?]

Three minutes later, my husband, Victor Gardner, sent me a message. "Honey, I have to work late tonight. I can't pick up our son. Sorry to make you do it."

I had been getting an IV at the hospital when I received the message. The medication made me drowsy, and by the time I saw it, two hours had already passed.

No one picked up Tony. He stood in the cold wind at the security booth for two full hours. That night, his fever spiked to 102 degrees.

On the way to the hospital, Victor kept sighing. He kept blaming me for not checking my phone.

At that time, I truly believed I was a terrible mother. I stroked my son's flushed face and apologized to him all night long.

It turned out the one who should have been apologizing was not me.

My hand clenched around my purse until my knuckles went white. My gaze slowly swept across the young woman's guilty, helpless face before landing on the garish blue stones glinting at her earlobes. I smirked.

"Your earrings are beautiful, Ms. Yates. Did your boyfriend give them to you? They must be expensive."

Last month on Valentine's Day, I stumbled across Victor's purchase history. One pure gold bracelet and one pair of sapphire earrings.

The bracelet cost one thousand dollars, and it was on my wrist. Meanwhile, the earrings cost eight thousand dollars, and he had given them to the woman standing in front of me.

When Samantha Yates heard my words, her face drained of all color in an instant. Her lips trembled for a long time, but she could not squeeze out a single word.

Pathetic!

Without sparing her another glance, I turned and walked away.

On the way home, I called my father. He was Victor's boss and the man in charge of Lloyd Industries. "Dad, I need a favor."

I had changed my phone wallpaper from our family photo to one of just me and Tony. My voice was unnervingly calm.

"That promotion to marketing director you promised Victor? Cancel it. And find me the best divorce lawyer you can. I'm divorcing Victor.

"Yes. He's having an affair with our son's teacher."

My father moved quickly. Within half an hour, a divorce attorney sent over three gigabytes of evidence and documentation.

I went through it. Beyond the social media posts I had already seen, there was another account I had never encountered before. There were a total of 83 videos, and every single one featured Victor.

I found out that last Christmas, when Victor claimed he was working late and could not come home, he had actually flown to Samantha's side to draw little stars with her in the snow.

On our son's seventh birthday, the gift Victor gave him was something Samantha had helped him pick out—a stuffed teddy bear.

In one of the videos, Samantha tucked intimate photos of herself and Victor into the bear's belly, laughing triumphantly all the while. "A surprise for Mr. Gardner's precious son. I can't wait for the day he discovers it."

In the comments, confused strangers asked questions.

[Does your boyfriend have kids from a previous marriage?]

Samantha, posting under a kitten avatar, replied: [He does, but I'll be taking over as the child's mom soon.]

She added a row of blushing emojis.

Then, there was the most recent video, uploaded the day I left for my trip. It was taken from the storage room of our house. Samantha leaned against the door with a selfie stick, smiling sweetly at the camera.

"Mr. Gardner's kid is so naughty. I'm going to lock him in this dark room as punishment."

In the background, the seven-year-old Tony begged for mercy through terrified sobs.

My hand tightened around the mouse so hard that it hurt. I shot to my feet with a bang, my mind racing back to the night my plane landed. I had called home over a dozen times. It was not until the 17th attempt that someone finally picked up.

"Why did it take you so long to answer? Where's Tony?" I was frantic, terrified something had happened at home.

On the other end, Victor's breathing grew noticeably heavier. After a long pause, he stammered an explanation, "T-Tony had a nightmare. It took me forever to get him back to sleep. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

At the time, I did not think twice about it. Victor brushed me off, and I let him.

Now, looking back, I realized the signs had been there all along. My chest felt like it had a gaping hole in it, and cold wind whistled through.

It was not the affair that hurt. It was the fact that I never imagined Victor would let someone else harm our child.

When Tony was born, he needed phototherapy for mild jaundice. Victor was so anxious that he cleared his entire schedule and stayed by his side around the clock.

The cold feeling in my heart grew heavier. I sat back down and continued going through the evidence of Victor's affair.

Right then, Samantha posted another video.

In the footage, she was wearing the same outfit from our meeting earlier. Tears stained the corners of her eyes as she looked pitiful and helpless.

"Mr. Gardner's ex-wife came to cause trouble again. She even said I'm not worthy of being the mother of Mr. Gardner's child. I'm so scared."

She sniffled, then casually revealed her chat interface with Victor.

"But thankfully, Mr. Gardner dotes on me. He promised to attend tomorrow's parent-teacher conference with me. I'm finally going to be a mother. I'm so nervous."

She had not told Victor I was back?

I stared at Victor's blue profile picture on the screen, the same one he had used since our son was born, and let out a soft laugh.

Perfect. If it was a parent-teacher conference, then it would not be strange for me, the real mother, to attend as well.

…

The next day, at the school's parent-teacher conference, I dressed down and blended into the crowd. I took a seat in the farthest corner of my son's classroom.

The moment I sat down, Victor sent me a message.

[Elle, how's work going? When are you coming home?]

He was testing me.

[Just got to the venue. Gotta go, the meeting's about to start.]

I kept it brief.

The chat box showed he was typing. Then, a small cat emoji appeared, indicating he had received my message. It was identical to Samantha's profile picture.

Disgust churned in my stomach, and I put my phone away without replying.

Samantha, the new homeroom teacher for this semester, stepped to the front of the class. She had dressed up for the occasion. She wore a simple beige dress with her hair braided to one side and her face carefully made up.

Unlike yesterday's timid cowardice, she now carried an air of forced maternal warmth. The sight made me sick.

"Good evening, parents. The theme for today's conference is 'A Harmonious Family.' Family has always been the most important safe haven for children. As parents, we must pay attention to our children's mental health and create a happy, harmonious environment at home."

She spoke confidently to the parents, even sharing several anecdotes to emphasize the importance of being responsible for one's family. Yet, she was the very person destroying mine.

What made it even more absurd was that after her speech, she suddenly tapped the blackboard and looked at the parents below with a shy expression.

"Actually, I have one more announcement to make today. My son, Tony, is also in this class."

Samantha turned toward the door and waved. "Vic, Tony, come in."

The classroom erupted in shocked murmurs. Victor walked into the room, holding our son's hand. He had styled himself carefully. He wore a sleek black suit with his hair slicked back, and on his wrist was the expensive watch I had given him.

Meanwhile, Tony's clothes were wrinkled. His hair was damp and plastered to his forehead. He looked like he had a fever.

My heart seized. I nearly lost control and rushed forward to take Tony back. However, reason held me in place. Now was not the time.

I needed to wait for Samantha to publicly acknowledge her relationship with Victor and let her destroy herself.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Samantha's husband, Victor."

He tugged at our dazed son's arm, his lips curving into the gentle smile I knew so well. However, the words that came out of his mouth made my blood run cold.