They Framed My Daughter, So I Burned Them Down

1: 1

On the first day of my daughter's summer break, I handed her a hundred dollars and sent her off to the market to buy groceries.

She headed out into ninety-eight-degree heat and spotted an old woman, seventy or eighty years old, crouched at the roadside selling shrimp.

The water in the tub had gone warm in the sun, the old woman's face was slick with sweat, and the backs of her hands were wrinkled like dried bark.

My daughter had a soft heart. She handed over the whole hundred dollars, the money meant for groceries.

"Grandma, I'll take all the shrimp. Go home early, okay?"

But she'd barely carried the shrimp to the entrance of our complex when the old woman chased her down and grabbed her by the arm.

"Everybody look! This college girl paid me, an old lady, with counterfeit money!"

Dead shrimp spilled all over the ground, and a ring of phone cameras closed in.

Once the video went online, my daughter became the "Counterfeit Girl" the whole city was talking about.

The university revoked her graduate-school recommendation.

She couldn't stand the screens full of "highly educated con artist," and she slit her wrists in her rented apartment.

My husband went to confront the old woman and was shoved down the steps by her son. After a night in the ER, he never woke up again.

And that old woman, holding the donation money, dabbed at her tears in front of the cameras.

"I don't want the money. I just wanted to teach these young people a lesson."

When I opened my eyes again, my daughter was standing at the market entrance, pointing at that tub of shrimp half-dead in the sun, turning back to look at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Mom, this grandma's so pitiful. Should I just buy them all?"

I pulled the hundred-dollar bill back out of her hand.

"Sweetheart, Mom's suddenly allergic to shrimp today. Let's eat it tomorrow."

...

Lucretia Henson froze.

"Mom, since when are you allergic to shrimp?"

"Since just now."

I tucked the money back into my wallet and looked up at the old woman at the stall.

Her face was flushed red from the sun, sweat sliding down through the wrinkles. She looked pitiful, truly pitiful.

But I would never forget that in my last life, it was this very face that pushed my daughter into the headlines and into her grave.

Lucretia was still looking at that tub of shrimp.

"Mom, she's so old..."

I cut her off.

"So old, and where are her children?"

The old woman's fan stopped mid-wave, and the tears came at once.

"Little girl, your mother's words really cut deep."

"If an old lady like me had anyone to look after me, would I be out selling shrimp in this heat?"

The woman selling tofu beside her spoke up right away.

"Life's hard for the elderly. If you're not buying, don't say things like that."

A man on an electric scooter stopped too.

"Exactly. Dressed all nice and not a shred of sympathy in her."

Lucretia's face went red in an instant.

In my last life, this was exactly how she'd been cornered. To prove she wasn't cold-hearted, she'd handed over that hundred.

I turned to the tofu seller.

"You feel sorry for her? Then you buy them."

The woman's expression shifted.

"My family doesn't eat shrimp."

I turned to the man on the scooter.

He waved his hands quickly.

"I've got gout. Can't eat seafood."

I smiled.

"What a coincidence. Everyone's heart bleeds with their mouth, but the moment it's time to pay up, they've all got some ailment."

For a moment the crowd went quiet.

Lucretia tugged at my sleeve.

"Mom, someone's filming."

I took her hand.

"Lucy, you didn't do anything wrong. No reason to be afraid of a camera."

The old woman suddenly stood up and seized Lucretia by the arm.

"You're not leaving!"

Lucretia flinched.

"Grandma, what are you doing?"

"Weren't you just about to buy my shrimp?"

"I asked about them, but I didn't buy any."

"You touched them!"

The old woman shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"You picked through them forever, then didn't want them, and now the shrimp are all dead from your messing around!"

Lucretia was so upset the tears came.

"I didn't. My hands are dry, look."

The old woman lifted the shrimp tub and dumped it out at Lucretia's feet.

Dead shrimp and fishy water spread across the ground.

She sank down with it and wailed like the sky was falling.

"Everybody look! A college girl bullying an old woman selling shrimp!"

The crowd surged in, rows of phone cameras rising up.

The old woman pulled a crumpled hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and held it over her head.

"She just tried to cheat me with fake money! I said the bill was wrong, and the two of them tried to run!"

There was a black smudge on the corner of that counterfeit bill.

I'll remember it to my dying day. It was the first stone that crushed Lucretia in my last life.

I took out my phone, dialed straight through, and pressed speaker.

"Hello, east gate of the Bayport Farmers Market. Someone is using counterfeit money to frame my daughter, extorting her and slandering her in public."

"Please send officers immediately."

The old woman's crying cut off.

Just then a man in a black tank top shoved his way through. "Ma!"

He steadied the old woman and swung around, roaring.

"Who's bullying my mother?"

The moment she saw him, the old woman wept harder.

"Pat, your mother can't go on living."

"This college girl cheated me with fake money, and her mom's calling me a swindler on top of it."

Patrick Swanson pulled out his phone and aimed it at Lucretia's face.

"Come on, everybody, take a look. A name-brand college girl cheating a seventy-eight-year-old woman with counterfeit money."

I raised my hand and blocked the lens.

"Don't film my daughter."

Patrick sneered.

"Afraid of looking bad? Then don't do dirty things."

He shoved the phone in closer.

"Which school?"

Lucretia's whole body went rigid.

School. The recommendation. Her reputation.

Every one of those words was a soft spot.

I pushed her behind me.

"Lucy, remember this. Don't apologize. Don't bow your head."

"And don't ever admit fault just to shut someone up."

Sirens rose from the corner of the street.

The old woman dropped straight back down to the ground, clutching her chest, sobbing like she might stop breathing any second.

I looked at this family.

This life, I've built the stage for you.

You'd better sing loud.

2: 2

The officers took us to the market management office.

The air conditioner was broken, and the reek of dead shrimp mixed with sweat turned my stomach.

The moment the old woman walked in, she set the basin of shrimp down on the desk with a thump.

"Officers, look, these were all live shrimp. That girl and her mother killed them."

Lucretia was shaking with anger.

"I never even touched them."

Patrick slammed the desk.

"My mother's seventy-eight. You think she'd frame you for nothing?"

I looked at the officers.

"Pull the surveillance footage."

Raymond James, the market manager, was sitting off to the side drinking tea. At those words, his hand paused.

"The east-gate camera's broken."

I asked, "When did it break?"

"Last week."

"Where are the repair records?"

Raymond frowned.

"You interrogating a suspect here?"

I laughed.

"There's a dispute at the market entrance, the camera's broken, and there are no repair records. What exactly is it you manage?"

Patrick cut in at once.

"Quit dragging in other stuff. The fake money's right here, the shrimp are dead. Pay up and apologize."

Just then a woman in a floral-print dress rushed in holding a child.

She started crying the second she came through the door.

"Mom, are you okay?"

The old woman immediately clutched her chest.

"Maddie, your mother's about to be worked to death over this."

Madeline Lawrence dropped to her knees in front of the officers, the child still in her arms.

"Officers, please, do something. This girl passed my mother-in-law fake money and then cursed her out for shaking people down."

The child suddenly burst into loud sobs.

I saw it clearly. She'd just pinched the kid's thigh.

The next second she opened a livestream and aimed the camera at Lucretia.

"Everyone, look, it's this college girl right here."

"Pretty face, but how can somebody be so rotten inside?"

Lucretia turned her face away at once.

I blocked the camera.

"Turn it off."

Madeline shrieked.

"What gives you the right to stop me filming? You scared, aren't you?"

An officer stepped forward to stop her.

"Nothing's been confirmed yet. No livestreaming."

Raymond started smoothing things over.

"All right, all right, that's enough out of everyone. The girl pays for the shrimp and apologizes to the old lady, and we're done."

"She's elderly. If this really makes her sick, who's going to answer for that?"

Lucretia's head shot up.

"Why should I apologize?"

Raymond sighed.

"Young lady, you're a student, aren't you? Don't let something this small mess up your future."

The moment Patrick heard the word "future," his eyes lit up.

"Which school?"

Lucretia said nothing.

Madeline was already yelling into the livestream.

"Everyone, help me place her. Isn't this girl from Harbor City University?"

My chest sank.

Last time, this was the exact step where they dug up Lucretia's school, her major, her dorm, and the posted grad-recommendation list.

I took Lucretia's phone and opened the class group chat.

Sure enough, Joanna Fox had already posted.

"Lucy, are you okay? Is that video online really you? Everyone's so worried."

She was ranked second in Lucretia's major.

Last time, after everything happened to Lucretia, she was the first to post on her feed:

"I hope everyone won't pile on Lucy. She just made one foolish mistake."

On the surface, telling people not to spread it. In reality, nailing down who it was.

Later, Joanna took Lucretia's grad-recommendation slot.

I replied straight from Lucretia's phone.

"I did not pass any fake money. The police have already been called. Do not spread false information. Whoever leaks personal data will be held accountable."

The group went dead quiet.

On Patrick's end, the pricing had already begun.

"A hundred fifty for the shrimp, five thousand for the medical exam, ten thousand for emotional damages."

I looked at him.

"Weren't you just saying you didn't want money, only justice?"

Patrick didn't so much as blink.

"We want justice, and the money has to be paid too."

The old woman dabbed at her tears.

"I don't want money. I want her on her knees, saying she was wrong."

Lucretia's fingers were ice cold.

I took them in mine.

"She's not going to kneel."

Patrick's face darkened.

"Fine. Talking tough, are we?"

"Let's see how long you can keep it up."

Out of the crowd, a tall, thin man got pushed forward, and he opened his mouth to say he'd seen Lucretia hand over the fake money.

I asked him where he'd been standing.

He said, "By the vegetable stall selling green peppers."

I laughed.

"Shrimp are sold at the east gate, green peppers at the west end. So you've got X-ray vision, or ears that see around corners?"

I took out my phone and snapped a picture of him.

"You can come down to the station later and give a statement. Giving false testimony is grounds for detention."

The man panicked instantly.

The comments were scrolling past fast.

"Dox her!"

"The school has to expel her!"

"Educated piece of trash!"

Lucretia watched those words, the color draining from her face bit by bit.

I turned her phone off.

"Don't look."

Her voice was very small.

"Mom, I didn't do it."

"I know."

"Then why are they cursing me like they saw it with their own eyes?"

I looked at those excited faces.

"Because cursing you costs them nothing."

"But this time, I'm going to show them exactly what it costs."

3: 3

Not long after, the school called.

Lucretia's academic advisor, Julie Sullivan, sounded grave.

"Mrs. Henson, the school has seen the videos about Lucretia that are circulating online."

"We need you both to come to the college right away and explain what happened."

I asked, "Has the school gotten to the bottom of it?"

Julie paused a beat.

"That's exactly why we need your cooperation, because it isn't settled yet."

"But the public reaction right now is very bad, and Lucretia is a recommendation candidate. Her position is sensitive."

Patrick laughed out loud beside her.

"Go on, then. Let the school see what kind of character deserves a grad-school slot."

On the way to campus, Lucretia kept gripping the strap of her backpack.

I saw the ring of bruises around her wrist.

The old woman had clawed those into her.

In my last life, there were marks on that wrist too. Only then, they'd been cut in with a blade.

She said quietly, "Mom, I'm scared they don't want me anymore."

"They will."

"They all know who I am now. They'll come corner me at my dorm, they'll call my professors, they'll say I'm a fraud."

I tightened my grip on the wheel.

"Lucretia, you didn't test your way this far by making them like you."

The car turned in through the gates of Harbor City University.

People were already waiting at the entrance, phones raised.

"Is that her?"

"The counterfeit girl's here."

Lucretia's head dropped on instinct.

I stopped walking.

"Head up."

Then I took her hand and walked her past every one of those cameras.

Inside the college office were Julie, Michael Gilbert, and the associate dean who oversaw student affairs.

Several screenshots of web pages were laid out on the desk.

Each headline more glaring than the last.

Elite University Student Uses Counterfeit Cash to Cheat Old Shrimp Seller

Recommendation Student's Character Exposed

Julie sighed. "Lucretia, you tell us what happened first."

Lucretia's voice shook. "I didn't give her any money, and I never touched her shrimp."

The associate dean frowned. "In the video, you're clearly holding cash in your hand."

"That was money my mom gave me. She took it back afterward."

Patrick sneered. "Who can prove that?"

The old woman had barely settled into her chair before she started crying. "Professor, an educated person shouldn't go against their conscience."

Michael turned to me. "Mrs. Henson, the school would like to bring the impact down first."

I asked, "Bring it down how?"

Julie hesitated. "Have Lucretia put out a statement first. Admit that she communicated improperly and caused the elderly woman harm."

Lucretia's head snapped up. "Professor, I did nothing wrong."

Julie frowned. "No one's asking you to admit you used counterfeit money. Just to apologize."

I smiled. "And after the apology? The internet will say, See, she admitted it."

"The old woman will say, See, she's guilty."

The office went quiet.

The associate dean rapped his knuckles on the desk. "Mrs. Henson, we're protecting Lucretia too."

I looked at him. "Protecting her, or protecting the school's name?"

Patrick jumped straight in. "You hear that? Even the school's telling you to apologize."

"And we're not asking for much. Two hundred grand, plus Lucretia bows to my mother at a school assembly, and we'll call it done."

Lucretia's eyes went wide. "Two hundred thousand?"

Madeline hugged the child and wept. "My mother-in-law was so upset she's in the hospital. Is two hundred thousand really so much?"

Right then, Lucretia's phone buzzed like mad.

She glanced at it and went rigid all over.

In the class group chat, Joanna had posted a screenshot of Lucretia's recommendation notice.

Her name, her major, her list of awards, all of it right there.

Joanna had added a line.

"Everyone please stop sharing this. Lucy's already under so much pressure."

But the moment she posted it, everyone knew.

Lucretia's identity was fully exposed.

Her hand jerked, and the phone hit the floor.

Michael and the associate dean conferred in low voices, then looked over at us.

"Lucretia, until this is cleared up, the college recommends suspending your recommendation process."

Lucretia's eyes went red in an instant. "On what grounds?"

The associate dean's tone dropped. "This is to protect the overall reputation of the school."

I stood up. "No investigation. No evidence."

"Just one edited video and a crowd making a scene, and that's enough to suspend her recommendation?"

Michael said, "It's only a suspension."

I stared at him. "A suspension is still a punishment."

Patrick laughed beside me. "Should've done this from the start, right?"

The old woman wiped at her tears. "Child, Grandma isn't trying to ruin you. Grandma just wants you to learn to be honest."

Lucretia stood there like she'd been slapped across the face.

I took her hand. "Lucy, let's go."

When we stepped out of the college building, a ring of students had already gathered outside.

"That's her."

"The counterfeit girl."

"Heard she's losing her grad-school slot."

"Serves her right."

Lucretia's steps slowed and slowed.

I pulled her along. "Don't listen."

Head down, her voice barely audible, she said, "Mom, I'm so tired."

Pain shot through my chest.

In my last life, the last thing she ever sent me was those same three words.

4: 4

That night, the school posted an announcement.

Our university takes the widely circulated online incident very seriously and has formed an investigation team. During the investigation, the graduate-school recommendation process and all honors evaluations for the student surnamed Henson are suspended.

Less than ten minutes after it went up, someone turned Lucretia's photo into a meme.

The caption read Grandma, I'll buy your life with fake money.

I switched off my phone.

The doorbell rang.

Outside, Patrick stood in the hallway with two other men, a bag of dead shrimp swinging from his hand.

He smiled up at the camera above the door.

Lucretia, come out and apologize.

You don't, and tomorrow I'll make sure the whole building knows you're a scammer.

By the time Theodore Henson got back, Patrick was kicking at our door.

Bang!

Bang!

Every kick landed like it was hitting Lucretia straight in the chest.

She was curled into the corner of the couch, both hands over her ears.

I'd already called the police, but Theodore couldn't wait.

He shoved through the hallway door and rushed over.

What do you think you're doing!

Patrick spun and threw a punch.

Theodore flinched back, and it still caught the corner of his mouth.

Blood came at once.

Cold went through me.

The scene from my last life dropped over this one.

Theodore at the foot of the stairs, and the doctor saying:

The family should prepare for long-term care.

I ran out and grabbed Theodore.

Don't fight him!

Patrick only laughed.

Oh, the man of the house is home?

He threw the bag of dead shrimp on the ground, and the reeking water ran to our doorstep.

Your daughter passed fake money to con my mother, your wife called my mother a fraud.

Quite the family you've got.

The moment the police arrived, Patrick changed his face.

Officers, I just want some accountability. My mother's in the hospital, and this whole family keeps hiding from us.

Neighbors leaned out into the hallway.

Isn't that the one from online?

She lives in our building?

Lucretia stood just inside the door, her face white as paper.

Early the next morning, Madeline posted a new video.

The old woman lay in a hospital bed, an oxygen tube in her nose.

On camera, she spoke weakly.

I'm not after money.

I just want to teach today's young people a lesson.

It's fine to be educated, but you can't lose your conscience as a person.

Under the video, Patrick posted the hospital's billing slip.

The headline was brutal.

Female College Student Cons Elderly Woman With Counterfeit Bills, Family Refuses to Apologize, Old Woman Hospitalized From the Stress

At ten in the morning, Julie called.

Mrs. Henson, Lucretia has to record an apology video before eight tonight.

I asked.

Apologize for what?

Julie was quiet for a few seconds.

Admit that she handled it improperly and caused harm to the old woman.

I laughed.

Ms. Sullivan, do you understand that once she records it, she can never clear her name again?

Julie lowered her voice.

This is the college's decision. If there's no video before eight tonight, the school will formally revoke her status as a recommendation candidate.

Lucretia sat across from me.

She heard it, and the chopsticks slipped from her hand.

I hung up.

She kept her head down.

Mom, should I not have gone to the market?

It's not your fault.

But Dad got beaten, the school doesn't want me, and the whole internet is cursing me.

They're the ones who are wrong.

She lifted her head, and the tears finally fell.

Why is everyone wrong, and I'm the one being punished?

That afternoon, someone posted our apartment number online.

The harassment calls came one after another.

Is the counterfeit girl home?

Why isn't the scammer dead yet?

Send your dad out for another beating.

Lucretia got a text from an unknown number.

You feel wronged? Then go die and show everyone.

She stared at that line and didn't move for a long time.

I reached for her phone.

She suddenly stood up.

Mom, I want to sleep for a while.

Something in me went tight.

I'll stay with you.

She shook her head.

I'll leave the door open.

She went into the room, and the door really was left ajar.

I sat in the living room, not letting my eyes leave that gap for a second.

But then Theodore called me from the kitchen.

Edith, something's wrong with the gas.

I turned away for less than half a minute.

When I looked back, the room was empty.

The window was open. On the desk sat that hundred-dollar bill.

A sheet of paper was pinned under it.

Mom, I really didn't pass fake money.

But they all say the only way I count as truly wronged is if I die.

My mind went blank with a roar.

Lucy!

I ran out the door. The elevator was stopped on the twenty-first floor.

The rooftop door was half open, wind howling in through it.

Lucretia stood at the edge of the roof.

Down below, a crowd of streamers held up their gear.

Someone shouted through a bullhorn.

Counterfeit girl, come out and apologize!

Stop playing dead!

You feel wronged? Then jump!

Lucretia turned to look at me, her eyes red enough to shatter.

Mom.

She smiled, just a little.

They said if I jump, they'll believe me.

And with that, she let go of the railing.