The day we moved into the neighborhood, our new neighbor sued me. She sobbed hysterically, accusing my son of assaulting her daughter. “My Tiffany just turned eighteen, and that sick pervert, Buddy, ruined her!” “That worthless piece of trash, clearly raised by wolves, deserves the death penalty!” Her daughter also insisted it was my son. “Buddy told me he’d choke me if I didn’t take off my clothes… I was so scared…” At her words, the jury and the public were enraged, demanding severe punishment for my son. “Buddy is an absolute jerk!” “Punish him severely! Don’t let this demon, Buddy, get away with it!” But when the judge called my son to the stand, everyone in the courtroom froze.
“You, Cassandra! Your bastard son had the guts to defile my daughter, but he’s too much of a coward to show his face in court!” “Hiding him won’t do any good! I won’t let this go! Your son must get the death penalty, and you two must pay my daughter two million for emotional damages!” In court, Brenda glared at me fiercely, as if she wanted to skin me alive. Her daughter, Tiffany, was sobbing dramatically, tears streaming down her face, her eyes filled with pain and terror. I looked at the mother and daughter coolly, repeating my stance. “My son did not assault Tiffany, and he couldn’t have! Find the real culprit; don’t you dare try to pin this on my son!” Until today, I never imagined I’d be facing Brenda and Tiffany in court. The day my son and I moved into the neighborhood, Brenda was so friendly, helping me with my luggage, saying we were neighbors now and I should come to her if I needed anything. When she heard I had a son during our chat, her face lit up, and she introduced her daughter, Tiffany, calling it fate. However, that very night, she came banging on my door with a disheheveled Tiffany, accusing my son, Buddy, of assaulting her. I was stunned, then quickly explained that my son would never do such a thing. But Brenda wouldn’t listen. She was convinced my son did it, and Tiffany cried along, claiming my son dragged her from the hallway to the rooftop and assaulted her. No matter how I tried to explain, the mother and daughter were like hungry wolves who had found their prey, relentlessly clinging to my son. They even demanded a one-million settlement and insisted my son marry Tiffany, or they’d call the police and make sure he rotted in jail. I knew my son couldn’t have assaulted Tiffany, and the one-million compensation was absurd. I flat-out refused the mother and daughter’s demands. I never expected them to sue me. I firmly denied everything, and Brenda instantly blew up. “Impossible? You, Cassandra, open your damn eyes and look at Tiffany’s injuries!” Brenda tore open Tiffany’s jacket, revealing shocking, livid bruises on her body. “These black and blue marks, your bastard son did this to her! My Tiffany is only eighteen!” Tiffany trembled as she looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “Cassandra, Buddy did all this. He even threatened to choke me if I didn’t take off my clothes. I was so scared!” Brenda hugged Tiffany, comforting her. Both mother and daughter burst into tears right there in the courtroom. And I, the mother of the alleged aggressor, watched them with cold indifference. The crowd in the jury box pointed at me, yelling. “Shameless! Her own son did something so heinous, and she’s still denying it!” “She’s clearly no good herself; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” “Poor Tiffany, so young to go through something like this. It’ll haunt her forever!”