Hearing this, Sally flinched. Flanked by Bruce and Sean, she clutched Bruce's arm and put on a false, gentle smile.

"Bruce, Wanda is family. Can't you clear up this misunderstanding? There's no need to make a scene for my sake. I feel terrible. Don't you agree, Sean?"

Her words made Sean falter.

"Mom, I didn't want it to come to this either," he said tentatively. "As long as you let us bring Sally back for Thanksgiving and properly apologize, we'll ask to dismiss the case."

Bruce glared at me. "Wanda, at this point, can't you just stop being so arrogant for once and apologize to Sally? Admit you're wrong, then Sean and I will let this slide."

I snorted and folded my arms. "You two really are a match made in hell—a bastard and a bitch make a perfect family. I hope you'll get stuck with each other for the rest of your lives!

"Stop the nonsense. If you want to take me to trial, go ahead. I've got a manicure appointment to get to."

A rapid series of shrill chimes echoed through the courtroom—a sign that the Grahams had had enough bickering with me and were eager to begin the trial.

Once the plaintiffs responded, the judge immediately activated the memory extractor and linked it to their brains.

"Given the plaintiffs' urgency, this trial will connect the memories of all witnesses at once to carry out comprehensive evidence collection."

As the words fell, the live stream feed flickered a few times before sharpening into focus.

…

The dark gray bedroom door opened, revealing me lying sick in bed while scrolling through reels on my phone.

Bruce walked in carrying a basin of water, with Sean following behind him, holding a towel.

"Mom, let us wash your feet."

"Wanda, let us wash your feet."

They both spoke in unison, their voices tender and soft. They looked particularly gentle with me in the footage. Bruce even tested the water temperature for me.

I sat up and curtly said, "I'm not feeling well today. You two should wash my feet together."

Neither showed a hint of objection. They even smiled.

"Wanda, you've worked hard. It's only right for me to do this for you."

"That's right," I said coolly.

In the next instant, Sean scooted up to me and asked innocently, "Mommy, shouldn't we also invite Sally over to thank her in person for saving you during the car accident—"

Before he could finish, I slapped my wet feet hard across both their faces and sneered.

"Sure. Only if each of you takes one foot and licks it clean."

Bruce and Sean exchanged a glance. Defiance instantly filled their eyes. It was as if they were trying to pierce a hole through me with their glares alone.

But I held their gazes, unfazed. My stance made it clear that I wouldn't agree to their suggestion unless they licked my feet.

Eventually, they had no choice but to lean toward my feet.

Just as they were a few inches away from my toes, I suddenly kicked them to the ground. Sean's palm scraped against the floor and split open.

I looked at them condescendingly, pretending to be unaware of their apparent misery. "You think filthy mouths like yours are worthy of touching my feet? Just drink the water I washed my feet with instead."

With that, I stood up and dumped the entire basin of water over their heads.

The screen turned black.

The audience in the courtroom was livid.

"Skin disease isn't the only issue. If anyone gets exposed to such contaminated water, they'll definitely get diarrhea!"

"How heartless can she possibly be? She actually had the heart to make her child drink the water she washed her feet with."

"Wanda's a cruel bitch. That's literally water she washed her feet with! Who knows what kind of fungus she's got? The kid could get a full-on skin infection!"

I shot a glare at the agitated crowd and snapped, "That's none of your concern. Even if the water was contaminated, they were willing participants.

"Or do you want some too? It's too bad that dirty water isn't going to satisfy you. But I can still stuff your face with my shoe!"

I yanked off my shoe and hurled it at my neighbors.

At that moment, as if to validate their claims, a hospital ward scene from the extracted memories materialized on screen.

Sean was lying in bed, his eyes red and swollen as he sobbed through the phone. "Mom, Dad and I got acute gastroenteritis from drinking the water you washed your feet with last night. Can you come see us at the hospital?"

Bruce snatched the phone from him. "Wanda, Sean's been craving your stew. Shouldn't you at least visit him, no matter how busy you are? You're still his mother, after all."

On the other end, I seemed occupied and irritable.

"What the hell are you mumbling about?" I yelled. "Speak up!"

"I said that Sean and I are both sick…"

As he spoke, both their stomachs suddenly gurgled. Bright streaks of blood pooled beneath them on their bedsheets, much like signs of their withering health.

Seeing blood gush out of their backsides, Bruce was terrified.

"Wanda, I don't care what you're doing now. Come to the hospital this instant," he sputtered. "Sean's bleeding out of his butt—only because he drank the water you washed your feet with!"

Beside him, Sean had curled up on the bed.

"Mom…" His voice was trembling. "My stomach hurts. Can you please come and make me feel better?

"I'm so scared, Mom. I'm scared I'll bleed to death and never see you again… Mom, can you please come and see me one last time?"

I scoffed on the other end of the phone. "It's just some bleeding. It's not like you're about to die.

"But if you really do die, I'll come when the hospital calls me to collect your corpse."

The Grahams still wanted to say something, but I quickly hung up.

Bruce wasn't ready to give up. While comforting a weak, bedridden Sean, he called me several times more, only for me to reject every single one.

Eventually, I got annoyed and sent him a voice message.

"Bruce, stop pestering me already! I'm out shopping with Sasha right now. Her birthday's coming up, and I'm picking a gift for her. Know your place!"

As soon as he tried to reply, he realized that I'd already blocked and deleted him from my contacts.

"Dad, is Mom abandoning us?" Sean was seen sobbing, his eyes red.

"Of course not." Bruce forced a smile, trying to comfort him. "She loves you the most."

As the scene faded, the audience burst into tears.

"How could a mother say something like that when her child is already so miserable?"

"Can the judge just sentence this woman to death already? She's pissing me off."

"My heart breaks for the Grahams. Just what did they do to end up with someone as vile as Wanda?"

I sneered. My gaze landed on Sally, who was also weeping with the crowd.

"Oh? Are you lot feeling sorry for them? Did Ms. Sullivan give you permission to?" I taunted. "You're all tripping over yourselves to be props for the Grahams. Want me to give you each an award for your performance?"

Chaos erupted again.

The judge had no choice but to strike the gavel again.

"Order! Order in the court!"

Silence finally enveloped the room. But because the live stream had gone viral, new viewers flooded in and began spamming the chat.

"Is the defendant this vicious because Ms. Sullivan never actually saved her? Otherwise, how could a human do something so monstrous?"

"Can the judge pull up Ms. Sullivan's memory of saving the defendant?"

More and more people demanded that the judge extract Sally's memory of the time she rescued me.

Hands on my hips, I snapped, "You all want to see me at my worst, huh? Keep dreaming!"

But for the sake of collecting solid evidence, the judge played the scene from the car accident, starting from the moment Sally risked her life to save me.

…

With a violent screech of tires, an SUV in front slammed into the highway barrier ahead. The car behind couldn't react in time and crashed straight into it.

A mere 30 seconds later, the dazed Grahams stumbled out of their backseat.

Carrying Sean in his arms, Bruce rushed to the front wreck. "Wanda, are you okay?"

"Mom! Mom, are you alright?" Sean cried.

When they saw half of my car hanging off a cliff, both collapsed to the ground, too terrified to move.

Sally had just stepped out of their car. Just as she was about to dash toward my car, the Grahams stopped her.

"Sally, what are you doing?" Bruce croaked, his eyes red and teary.

"Sally, it's too dangerous," Sean cried. "You can't go. We've already called 911. Someone will be here soon to rescue Mom."

Sally glanced at my car, anxiety flashing in her eyes.

"Bruce, there's no time," she said hastily. "Can't you see half her car is over the edge? If she wakes up and moves even an inch, she could fall to her death!"

With that, she wrenched her hand out of their grip and sprinted toward me. Everyone saw her bite through the jammed seatbelt and drag me out of the driver's seat.

We had barely gotten out when the vehicle exploded and tumbled down the cliff.

On the screen, Sally's entire back was scorched as she shielded me from the blast.

The smell of burning flesh seemed to seep through the screen. The crowd covered their mouths in horror as they held their breath.

And yet, the moment I snapped back to my senses, I didn't thank Sally. Instead, I slapped her hard across the face twice as she was being lifted onto a stretcher.

The Grahams immediately pulled me away.

"Wanda, are you insane?" Bruce bellowed. "Sally risked her life to drag you out of a fire, and this is how you repay your savior?"

"Mom, since when have you become so cruel?" Sean cried out. "Sally burned her back saving you, and you have the audacity to hit her?"

I yanked my hand off and sneered. "Did I ever ask that bitch to save me?"