My Son Told Me I Was Too Ugly And Stupid Compared To Her Chapter 04

My Son Told Me I Was Too Ugly And Stupid Compared To Her Chapter 04

The outburst lasted until the middle of the night. I laughed and cried.

Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was my stomach.

Suddenly, I couldn’t stop vomiting. Then I curled in on myself and wept.

I spent the next three days in a fog, barely eating. But eventually, I forced myself to clean up.

I wanted to talk to Charles calmly. Even if the chance was slim.

But the moment I got into my car, Charles pulled me out.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

He was rough. I hit the ground hard, crying out in pain.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was tense and red with anger. “Jessica is missing. You did this, didn’t you?”

I stared at him, stunned by the absurdity of it.

Before I could deny it, his gaze landed on the back seat of my car. His eyes narrowed.

He reached in and grabbed a piece of clothing. Furious, he threw it in my face. “Why is Jessica’s shirt in your car? And why is there blood on it?”

I grabbed the bloody shirt, panicked. “I don’t know. I’ve been home for days. I never—”

“Enough!” Charles’s face twisted with disgust. “Emily, I regret not divorcing you sooner. My so-called mercy is what got Jessica hurt.”

With that, he grabbed me by the collar and bound my hands together tightly. I struggled, terrified, as he pulled a rope and walked toward his car.

A sick feeling washed over me. “What are you doing? Let me go! Call the police if you don’t believe me!”

“You think I didn’t call them? Jessica is still missing!” His eyes went cold and dark. “You want to keep lying, Emily? Fine. Let’s see how tough that mouth of yours really is.”

He slowly pressed the gas. The car lurched forward. I was forced to walk, then jog, then run.

After three days without food, my strength gave out in under two minutes. I fell hard.

“Stop! Charles, stop!”

The rough asphalt shredded my skin. I screamed. I felt something wet between my legs. But Charles didn’t stop.

He kept going until I lay silent and motionless.

Suddenly, Charles shivered. In the rearview mirror, I lay limp on the ground like a corpse.

His heart dropped, but he quickly dismissed the feeling. “Don’t think I can’t tell you’re faking. I was going slow. There’s no way you couldn’t keep up. You’re trying to guilt-trip me.”

But he froze mid-sentence.

The blood pooling beneath me was bright enough to make his vision blur.