Courtney's POV

At the very end of the documents was a wedding photo of Floyd and Lizzie.

It hit me like a punch to the gut.

Floyd, Lizzie, and their six children were smiling in the photo. His parents were there too. And to my horror, even my parents stood in the background, beaming with joy.

I took the fall for him, carried the shame, and gave up my freedom. And in the end, I was nothing but a stranger.

I closed the folder, my heart like a crumbling wall. There was no hope left, only resolve.

“Camelia,” I said to my prison sister, “help me overturn the case. And count me in. I’ll go with you to Southeast Asia.”

Camelia had once been a successful entrepreneur. She went to prison for excessive self-defense in a business dispute. While we were inside, she’d tried many times to pull me into her next venture.

But back then, my world revolved around Floyd.

Now, that illusion was shattered. And she couldn’t be happier.

“Took you long enough!” she grinned. “Men, especially scumbags, are the most useless trash there is.”

The day of my younger brother’s wedding, Lizzie showed up with all six of her children in tow.

She wore a fitted red dress, every inch glowing with confidence and charm. You’d never guess she was the mother of six.

The kids were dressed in matching formal attire. The boys were tiny replicas of Floyd, and the girls looked almost exactly like their mother.

Even Floyd himself wore a dark blue tuxedo, perfectly coordinated with Lizzie and the children. They looked like a polished family portrait come to life.

Seeing that, I let out a bitter laugh inside.

Floyd used to say he hated formal clothes.

Now I realize, he just didn’t want to match outfits with me.

His parents hovered around the children like they were made of glass, fretting over every step, sweating from the effort, but happy beyond belief.

Then Lizzie handed my brother a bank card.

“There’s a hundred thousand in it,” she said warmly. “Wishing you and your bride a long and happy life.”

My mother’s eyes lit up as she snatched the card out of his hand. “So generous! No wonder she was able to give Wagners six kids!”

She cast a sharp glance in my direction and sneered, “Not like some people. Blood relatives, sure, but she gave a measly 8,888 dollars and called it ‘lucky money’? Cheap as a rusty nail.”

My brother, emboldened, pulled the money out of the envelope right in front of me. Then he crumpled the empty wrapper, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it.

“What kind of joke is this?” he spat. “You think we’re beggars?”

I stood there, frozen. Their cruelty numbed me.

That 8,888 dollars wasn’t much, but it was all I had. I’d worked in prison, scrubbing floors, sewing clothes, anything I could, saving little by little, in secret. After that gift, I had less than a hundred to my name.

I frowned, lips pressed tight, saying nothing.

Suddenly, the eldest boy walked up to me. He stared for a full minute, then gave a mocking snort. “So you’re the woman who went to prison?”

He looked me up and down. “Ugh, you're ugly and trying to steal my dad? Shameless.”

He waved to the other kids behind him and shouted, “Come look! This is the bad woman who made our classmates call us bastards!”

Lizzie crouched down and quickly covered the boy’s mouth.

“Cliff! Don’t say things like that!” she scolded gently. “Apologize to the lady.”

But her face showed not a hint of remorse. If anything, she looked smug, like she'd just won a battle.

Naturally, her performance triggered Floyd's parents. Without missing a beat, they jumped to defend the kids and launched straight into scolding me.

Just then, Floyd, who’d been chatting with guests nearby, heard the commotion and walked over.

He gently patted Cliff’s head, his face full of fatherly affection.

“It’s Daddy’s fault,” he said softly. “I’m the reason your classmates teased you. But from today on, Auntie Courtney is your legal mom. No one will dare call you bastards again.”

Another little boy, slightly younger than Cliff, suddenly burst into tears.

The grandparents rushed over, scooping him up while panicking.

“Oh no, what’s wrong, sweetie? Tell Grandma, what’s hurting? What happened to our precious Ralph?” Floyd's mom asked gently.

Through his sniffles, he pointed at me. “Teacher says people who go to prison are bad guys!”

Courtney's POV

"I don’t want a bad woman to be my mom! I want my real mom back!"

As soon as Ralph Wagner burst into tears, the other kids followed like a domino effect. The room filled with crying, chaos breaking out like a storm.

The grandparents were flustered, rushing from one child to the next, doing their best to calm them down. “There, there, don’t cry, sweethearts. That bad woman won’t be your mommy. Grandpa and Grandma promise!”

The oldest boy, Cliff Wagner, glanced at me with a smug look, then turned to his grandparents with a pout and teary eyes.

“But you two can’t make that call,” he said dramatically. “I heard the reason Mom never officially became Dad's wife is because Dad wouldn’t agree.”

That seemed to hit a nerve. The old couple snapped their heads toward Floyd and scolded him.

“Floyd, say something! If our darling grandbaby cries himself hoarse, I swear I’ll come after you!”

Floyd looked at me, seemingly struggling with a tough choice. After a moment, he finally spoke. “Don’t cry, alright? I’ll give you the answer you want.” He patted Cliff’s shoulder gently. “You’re the eldest. Be strong for your siblings. Boys don’t cry so easily.”

Like magic, the crying stopped. The kids quieted down instantly as if someone had pressed mute.

Meanwhile, Lizzie’s eyes welled up with tears of joy. “Floyd… are you serious? Am I dreaming?”

But he didn’t respond. He just looked at me again, silent and heavy-eyed.

Suddenly, Ralph charged at me with a clenched fist, yelling, “Bad woman! You stole my dad! I’ll beat you up!”

He was only about eight or nine, but weighed over 200 pounds. The kid lunged at me like a falling boulder.

Instinctively, I stepped aside. As a result, he flew forward, crashed into the wall with a loud thud, and immediately started bawling as blood gushed from his nose.

“Baby!” Lizzie shrieked, rushing over. Then she turned to glare at me. “Courtney! I know it must hurt to see me with Floyd after all these years, raising his kids, being there for him. But if you have a problem, take it out on me, not on a child!”

I was speechless. I hadn’t even touched him.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, I felt a sharp sting. Floyd slapped me across the face, hard.

“I thought you just needed time to adjust after getting out of prison,” he growled. “But how dare you take it out on a kid?”

The slap sent my head whipping to the side, then I tasted blood in my mouth.

His eyes burned with cold fury as he roared, “Cliff and his siblings are the future of our family. They’re the rightful heirs. And you? You’re nothing but a burden. Even your parents rely on me to survive. What right do you have to lay a hand on any of them?”

Then, three-year-old Iris Wagner came waddling over, teary-eyed and sniffling. She grabbed Floyd’s leg and said in a sugary voice, “Don’t be mad, Daddy. Iris will help you beat up the bad woman!”

She raised her tiny fist at me, trying to act fierce.

But Floyd picked her up and kissed her on the cheek.

“My little princess,” he said gently, “dirty work like hitting people isn’t for someone as precious as you.”

With that, he motioned for Lizzie to take the kids and leave.

Then, their entire family of eight walked out together.

His parent also followed, but not before one of them turned back to spit at me.

“Shameless wench!”

Once they were gone, my parents’ faces turned dark.

“Look at what you did,” my mother snapped. “You ruined your brother’s wedding! You should’ve stayed in prison. At least there you wouldn’t cause so much trouble!”

My brother was also fuming. To him, I was the villain who destroyed his big day.

“Why don’t you just go die?” he shouted.

Rolling up his sleeves, he started punching and kicking me, fueled by rage.

“Worthless bitch!”

Then he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me toward the door.

Men were naturally stronger than women, so the more I fought back, the worse it got.

Courtney's POV

The commotion must have caught their attention, because Floyd and the others stopped in their tracks.

The kids clapped and cheered like it was a show.

“Daddy, look! The bad woman got beaten up!”

“Uncle’s amazing! He’s our hero!”

Their grandparents also joined in without shame, echoing the kids' excitement.

“Our sweet babies really know how to tell the difference between a villain and a hero!”

My head was ringing from the blows, and pain throbbed through every part of my body. Yet the people around me just watched like it was entertainment.

Floyd’s cold, emotionless stare sliced through me like a blade, landing squarely on my already broken heart.

My brother still wasn’t letting up. So, I curled up on the floor, shut my eyes, and tried to brace myself as despair swallowed me whole.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open.

Then a loud, familiar voice echoed through the room. “Who the hell gave you the guts to lay a hand on her?!”