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Her Vengeance, His Ruined Life

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 474    |    Released on: 18/08/2025

lytical CSI mind, took over. "Alex," I said,

her head, her eyes

Is there a diagnosis? A prescription?" I asked, a rap

nt anyone to know. He was ashamed. He said...

e was the state champion! He had a full ride to Stanford! He was going to the

ot to you, Alex? Who is making you say this? Was it them?"

treaming down her face. "No

lled out a folded piece of paper. An enve

or me," she sobbed. "

it up to

rld st

I saw my son' s familiar, messy hand

ressure is too much. Tell my mom I love her, but

for one terrifying, soul-cr

at I didn't see his pain? Was I a bad mother? The q

ding the to

grief and confusion, my ey

is just

story about a little bear who carried the moon on his back because he was afraid of the dark. We had read it together a thousand

was a signal. He was in trou

ving up. He had be

d his cry for help

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Her Vengeance, His Ruined Life
Her Vengeance, His Ruined Life
“My son was dead. The official report called it a suicide, a drug overdose. But I knew it was a lie. I was a Crime Scene Investigator, and I had processed his body myself. The evidence screamed murder. I appealed, seven times, each time presenting irrefutable proof. Each time, District Attorney Bentley Shannon slammed the door in my face, dismissing my grief as delusion. The system I had served for twenty years was protecting a killer. So, I took the law into my own hands. I kidnapped the District Attorney's daughter, Dallas Shannon, and broadcast my demands to the world. For every chance he wasted, I would use a forensic tool on her, permanently disfiguring her. The world watched, horrified, as I stapled her arm, then cauterized it, drawing thin red lines on her skin with a scalpel. My former mentor, Dr. Hooper, and my son's girlfriend, Alexandra, were brought in to convince me, to paint my son as depressed, to present a fabricated suicide note. For a moment, I wavered, the pain of being a "bad mother" crushing me. But then I saw it-a hidden message in his "suicide note," a secret code from his favorite childhood book. He wasn't giving up; he was crying for help. They had twisted his plea into a lie. My grief burned away, replaced by an unbreakable resolve. "I do not accept this note," I declared, pressing the cauterizing pen to Dallas's leg as the FBI swarmed in.”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 89 Chapter 910 Chapter 10