I Saw My Cruel Stepmom Future And Changed It All Chapter 03

I Saw My Cruel Stepmom Future And Changed It All Chapter 03

The morning I took Jasper to Maplewood ELC felt like enduring endless punishment.

He refused to pull on his ELC uniform, hurled his backpack across the room three separate times, and lashed his foot toward my calf.

“I’m not going! Everyone hates me here!”

I gently caught his foot before the next kick landed before his second kick landed.

“First off, hitting people is wrong. Second—who told everybody dislikes you?”

“All the other kids!” His cheeks burned bright red. “They call me a monster without a birth mom.”

New commentary floated up.

[Kids’ cruelty hits different, raw and unfiltered.]

[They’ve isolated and bullied him for ages, that’s why he lashes out. No one ever asked why he fought back in the original story.]

My chest tightened instantly.

I knelt down and brushed his messy hair back behind his ears.

“Things are different starting today. Someone will drop you off, and someone will wait to pick you up every single day.”

“If any kid calls you names, you tell them my mom’s waiting by the entrance plaza, and they can come say it to my face.”

Jasper’s whole body locked up stiff.

“What did you just say?”

I slowed my speech, enunciating every word clearly.

“You’re welcome to call me Mom if that feels right for you, if you want to.”

His lips trembled, but he didn’t agree or deny it.

When we climbed into the family SUV afterward, he didn’t slide to the far empty seat like he always had before.

He sat right beside me, only a fist’s worth of space separating our bodies—an enormous step forward.

When we pulled up to the ELC drop-off plaza, I laced my fingers through his tiny, cold hand and walked him inside.

A little girl in a pink dress passed us, spotted Jasper, and dragged her friend sprinting away, muttering under her breath.

“That’s the violent weirdo.”

Jasper’s hand ripped out of my grip in an instant.

“I wanna go home.”

“We’re not leaving,” I blocked his path gently. “Let’s go talk to Ms. Thorne first.”

I tracked down the classroom lead teacher right away.

Ms. Thorne was a woman in her thirties, sizing me up like she was judging what brand of stepmother I’d be.

“Jasper’s aggression is out of control,” she said flatly. “Last week he sunk his teeth deep into another boy’s arm, leaving clear indentations on the skin. The child’s parents filed formal complaints, and the center director’s under massive pressure.”

“What did that boy do to Jasper first?” I asked her.

Ms. Thorne blinked, caught off guard.

“Pardon?”

“I’m asking what actions that other child took before Jasper bit him.”

Her expression turned awkward and evasive.

“It was just typical kid roughhousing.”

“Roughhousing doesn’t make a child to bite someone,” I cut her off, calm but unyielding.

“Ms. Thorne, I’m not here to pick a fight. I just need the full context of every incident.”

Ms. Thorne stayed silent for several long seconds before she caved.

“That boy leads a group that ostracizes Jasper daily. He hides Jasper’s toys, and pours cold water into Jasper’s cot during naptime.”

“I understand the full picture now,” I stood up straight.

“Please alert me immediately if anything like this happens again. Hugo will pass along my personal cell number to you.”

When I stepped back out into the hallway, Jasper stood pressed flat against the wall, a tiny crumpled heap.

I reached out and ruffled the top of his hair.

“Tell me when kids bully you. Don’t carry all that pain alone.”

He flinched away a little, but didn’t pull fully out of my reach.

Commentary scrolled rapidly across my vision.

[trauma healing progress tracker: 15%]

That afternoon, when school let out, Jasper walked straight up to me without hesitation.

He slipped his small palm into mine, soft and warm against my skin.

We rode home in silence for a while, him staring out the car window, before he spoke quietly.

You’re nothing like all the other women Dad brought around before.”

“What other women?”

“They smiled at me, but their eyes were full of disgust.” He twisted to face me.

“You snap at me sometimes, but you never look at me like I’m something gross.”

This sharp, sweet little kid.

I lifted my hand cautiously to brush his hair again.

This time, he didn’t shy away at all.