Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Courtney answered almost instantly, her mocking laugh cutting through the line.

"Well? Did you like the photos? If you keep digging into this, I will broadcast those photos and videos on every billboard downtown. I'll tell the whole city your mom is a two-dollar street hooker. Let's see how you two live with that humiliation!"

I gripped the phone until my knuckles turned white. "Let my mom go! I was the one who went to the police! If you have a problem, come after me!"

Courtney chuckled coldly. "Oh, look at you begging for a death wish! Are you that desperate to reunite with your deadbeat dad in hell?"

"Let me make this crystal clear: the next time you go to the cops, I'll send my boys to break the rest of her bones. Let's see whose will is stronger―your stubbornness or your mom's fragile life!"

"You know our school forum, right? I can easily upload your mom's stripped photos there for everyone to enjoy."

I slammed my fist against the stone bench, splitting my knuckles. "Courtney Mercer, do not push me too far! I will―"

Before I could finish, Mom's agonizing scream pierced through the speaker. With her last ounce of strength, she cried out:

"Hailey! Don't worry about me! We are the family of fallen heroes! We will never bow our heads to evil!"

"Shut up, you old hag! You still have breath to talk? Somebody rip her mouth open!"

"Mom! No!"

The only reply was the harsh dial tone of a disconnected call.

My mind spun in total torment. I was terrified.

I was terrified that every step I took would only cause Mom more suffering. They could beat me to death, but Mom was my only family.

Yet Mom's desperate plea echoed in my ears: "We are the family of fallen heroes! We will never bow our heads to evil!"

I crouched on the pavement, burying my face in my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Mom... I'm so sorry..."

When I finally raised my head, the hesitation in my eyes had vanished, replaced by cold, unbreakable resolve.

I would not disgrace the legacy of my father and mother.

Never bow to tyranny―that was the very first lesson my father had taught me before he deployed.

I tried to contact an old family friend who worked at the district courthouse. But before I could dial his number, the hospital called to inform me that Mom's account was overdrawn and treatment would stop if we didn't pay immediately.

I rushed to the bank to withdraw our savings.

When I reached the counter, the teller informed me coldly that our accounts had been frozen due to suspected illegal transactions!

I tried every single debit card we had.

Every single one was locked.

Courtney Mercer! She was behind this!

Mom's medications could not be paused for even an hour. Desperate, I reached out to distant relatives to borrow money.

I sat outside the ICU, waiting for the evening visiting hours to start.

My estranged aunt walked past me, glaring with pure venom. "You little jinx! You brought death upon your father, you ruined your mother, and now you want to drag the rest of us down with you!"

"What good is being a so-called military hero's family? We never got a single dime of benefit, just nothing but trouble!"

I walked back to the ICU corridor with a heavy heart.

A part of me wanted to give up, but the thought of Mom's proud eyes kept me going.

Dragging my broken, limping leg, I pushed through the heavy double doors.

Before I could step inside, the lead physician grabbed my shoulder.

"Where were you? We've been calling you non-stop! Your mother's wounds developed a severe infection, and she went into septic shock! We're resuscitating her right now!"

"We are doing everything we can, but whether she survives the night depends entirely on her will."

I stood outside the operating room for twenty-four hours straight, but Mom remained in a deep coma.

Returning to our ransacked apartment, I looked up at the framed family photo on the living room wall. In the picture, Dad and Mom were smiling warmly down at me while I was still a baby wrapped in blankets.

My grandfather and grandmother stood behind them, standing tall in their crisp military uniforms.

I clenched my fists and walked over to the closet to unlock an old wooden trunk.

Inside rested the only heirlooms left by my father, grandfather, and grandmother.

Two gleaming First-Class Medals of Honor lay peacefully inside velvet boxes.

I picked up the heavy medals, and Mom's gentle voice echoed in my memory:

"Our family fought for this country. If Hailey ever faces an impossible crisis, you may seek help from your father's comrades. But never waste public resources lightly, and never bring shame to their sacrifice."

Mom was currently lying on the brink of death in the hospital.

Our funds were frozen, the courthouse friend had been mysteriously fired, my university scholarship was stripped, and Courtney's violent threats were closing in like a noose.

Every road had been blocked.

I looked at the family portrait one last time, tucked the medals into my jacket, and turned around with determination.