I recently noticed that my daughter’s mood has become unpredictable. She would get extremely excited or deeply disappointed over a single comment from her school teacher. After my repeated questioning, she finally admitted, “You’re a bad mom. I like my dance teacher more as my mom.” “If only Miss Diana could be my mom, Dad would definitely smile more,” she pouted. I frowned, my woman’s intuition screaming inside: That woman is seducing my husband, and worse, she’s trying to manipulate my daughter psychologically. My name is Olivia Wilson, 31 years old, married, and the only daughter of a small business owner. I have an MBA from overseas and currently work as a marketing manager in a company. To outsiders, I seem to be living an enviable life: born into a wealthy family, highly educated, and happily married with a child. But only I know that deep down, I’m actually a very insecure and weak person. Growing up in a single-parent family has made me cold and indifferent towards others. I’m not as devoted to my family as I am to my work. My husband is handsome and capable, and my daughter is sweet and well-behaved. The only flaw is that after giving birth, I immediately threw myself into a demanding project at work, missing the best time for postpartum recovery. As a result, I now have stubborn belly fat and a C-section scar that I can’t get rid of, which has become a big regret for me. Jack, however, doesn’t seem to mind. He often hugs me from behind and whispers, “Darling, you’ll always be the most beautiful in my eyes.” He’s said this to me twice before: once during our wedding vows, and once when I had a major hemorrhage due to breech position during childbirth. I was in the ICU then, tears blurring my vision, my body reeking. I asked him, “Honey, am I ugly now?” He kissed my hand gently, without any disgust, and said I was the most beautiful woman in his heart. Jack’s deep affection and tenderness have kept our marriage in a state of mild warmth since we got married. Now, our daughter Lily is four years old and in middle class at kindergarten. He takes on the responsibility of being a good father and husband. Since I’m usually busy with work and he often works night shifts as a programmer, he’s the one who picks up our daughter from school. One day, I saw a parenting forum on my phone suggesting that parental companionship is the most important factor in a child’s growth. After reading it, I felt guilty, realizing I hadn’t spent enough time with my daughter lately. So I left work early that afternoon and called Jack: “Honey, I’ll pick up Lily today. It’s Blue Bell Kindergarten, Middle Class 3, right? Is it still the east entrance for pick-up?” I admit I haven’t done enough in terms of spending time with our child, and Jack only picks her up from school because my work hours clash with her school dismissal time. But when we get home, I’m the one who cooks. For Lily’s healthy growth, I even got a nutritionist certificate in my spare time, just to prepare balanced and nutritious meals for them. I rarely visit my daughter’s kindergarten, having been there only once for a parent-teacher meeting. Due to a timing mistake, and unable to reach Jack on his phone, I ended up standing at the gate for an hour and a half before realizing other parents were already leaving. Lily came out with her little backpack, looking surprised to see me there to pick her up. Her big, bright eyes flashed with astonishment. As she approached, I quickly took her backpack and told her I had been waiting for her for a long time. My daughter pouted and said, “Silly mommy, today teacher gave me extra dance lessons. You didn’t even know!” I crouched down, feeling guilty. Jack hadn’t told me clearly, so I had come at her usual dismissal time. However, at that moment, I suddenly noticed a trace of chili oil at the corner of her lips. Although it was just a tiny bit, my keen eye caught it. As a certified nutritionist, I strictly forbid my baby from eating any junk food. Spicy snacks and chips are off-limits, even though she loves them. I held her small hand and sniffed it. Despite having been washed, the strong artificial flavor couldn’t be masked by the hand soap. My face darkened. “Lily, did you eat spicy snacks?” Seeing my anger, she immediately deflated, puffing up her cheeks and refusing to admit it. “Honey, didn’t Mommy teach you to be an honest child? No lying, okay?” I tried to stay calm, knowing that children this age need effective guidance rather than harsh criticism. Under my gentle coaxing, my daughter finally spoke up. She said the spicy snacks were given to her by their dance teacher, only to her, and she was told not to tell her parents or other kids. “If only Miss Diana could be my mom, Dad would definitely smile more,” my daughter said with a pout. I raised an eyebrow, my grip on her delicate wrist unconsciously tightening as I angrily said: “What did you say? Do you know how much it hurts Mommy to hear you say that?” She suddenly jerked her hand away in a fit of temper, tears of petulance glistening in her eyes. She grabbed the water bottle from my hand and threw it on the ground: “She buys me fried chicken and spicy snacks, and plays with me. You can’t give me anything.” I stood there in shock, watching my usually well-behaved daughter become increasingly spoiled and even break the water bottle. I began to realize how much I had failed in my role as a mother, to the point where my daughter thought another woman would be a better mom. However, her childish words inadvertently revealed some shocking facts to me: My husband had shown fondness for another woman in front of her.
And to win over my daughter, she was pulling out all the stops to please her. This Miss Diana, I vaguely remembered, was the dance teacher at the kindergarten, named Diana Lee. My daughter loves dancing. Diana has been teaching Lily since the junior class. I had seen her in a class photo before and even joked with my husband: “Look at this teacher, she’s so pretty and fresh-faced. She looks like an older sister among the kids.” Jack, however, said she was already thirty years old. Seeing my surprise, he inadvertently added: “She used to be a yoga instructor. Her kid is already over three years old, but I must say, she’s maintained herself really well.” At that moment, a flash of surprise crossed my mind: why did Jack know so much about this teacher? But I just laughed it off. Perhaps it was because Jack often went to the kindergarten to pick up our daughter and had heard some things. Looking back now, there were clues all along. However, the caution ingrained in me from my family background made me reluctant to disrupt our family harmony without concrete evidence. What if, what if Lily was just saying things out of anger? What if that teacher was already married? After all, she was supposed to be a role model. I tried to comfort myself, afraid of wrongly accusing someone of something they didn’t do. Children’s Day was coming up in a few days, and my daughter was going to perform a “Fairy Dance” on stage. Diana was in charge of rehearsing their class performance. I decided to go and see her in person to investigate. It was already quite hot in our small southern city in June, but I didn’t dare wear a dress. I stuck to my usual outfit of a shirt and cropped pants. I hadn’t recovered well after my C-section, leaving scars on my abdomen and stretch marks extending to my legs, which made me very self-conscious. But as I entered the kindergarten, I saw her graceful figure from afar, by the stage. Even without beauty filters, she looked exactly like in the photo, perfectly embodying the “fair, young, and slim” aesthetic. I was momentarily stunned, involuntarily thinking how beautiful she was. If I hadn’t given up the best time for postpartum recovery due to work, I probably wouldn’t be so different from her. Miss Diana was wearing a white crop top, with several cute little buns in her hair, her curvy figure looking very alluring. At that moment, she was patiently crouching by the stage, gently encouraging: “Darlings, do you all remember the dance steps for when you go on stage?” “Yes, we do!” the children chorused in unison. The most excited voice among them was my daughter Lily’s. She had pointy elf ears attached to both of her little ears, and the shimmering purple eye shadow made her big eyes sparkle. I stood in the shade of a nearby tree, just tenderly watching my daughter, my most precious connection in this world. As for the incident from a few days ago, I only felt guilt and self-reproach towards my daughter. After thinking about it all night, I decided to sacrifice some work time when possible to spend more time with Lily and be part of her childhood. Rather than having her constantly thinking about adopting an outsider as her mother. At this moment, Diana seemed to notice my presence. With a wide smile, she walked towards me. “Excuse me, ma’am, which child’s parent are you? Why don’t you go sit in the audience area?” Perhaps due to her dance training, her figure looked even more stunning up close. Her slender waist seemed like it could be encircled by one hand, and there was even a small diamond piercing in her belly button. I snapped back to reality and quickly smiled apologetically, “Oh, I’m Lily Thompson’s parent…” But I was oddly stunned when I saw her expression upon hearing this. Because I clearly saw a glint of cunning in her eyes. “Are you her grandmother?” I frowned at her. Although I hadn’t recovered well after giving birth, I didn’t have any age spots or anything on my face. I clearly looked like I was in my early thirties. How could she mistake me for a grandmother? “…I’m her mother.” Diana feigned surprise, her voice still sweet: “Oh, so you’re Lily’s mom. I’m sorry, some of the other kids have grandmothers who come to pick them up, and they look very young too. Lily’s dad usually picks her up, so you don’t come often, right?” Her slightly passive-aggressive words instantly woke me up, reminding me of why I came here. My thoughts gradually became clear. No wonder Lily likes her. Women like her, both in appearance and tone, are extremely captivating and easy for people to warm up to. Thinking back to what my daughter said yesterday, I felt dispirited and listless throughout the entire kindergarten event. The camera in my hand captured snapshots of my daughter’s small figure. But my peripheral vision lingered long on Diana’s flower-like smile. We’re both thirty years old… but she’s maintained herself so much better than I have. Thinking of Lily’s closeness to her, I couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of panic, with tears welling up in my eyes. I have to say, if all my suspicions were true, my daughter would probably be very happy to have such a gentle and beautiful stepmother in the future. Jack would be happier too. Then what am I… Am I just a nuisance that others want to discard?
I was distracted for many days, feeling increasingly uneasy. Even Jack noticed that something was off with me. Seeing that I kept rejecting his advances, he asked curiously: “Honey, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” I shook my head. He had done everything well, perfectly, without anything to criticize. However, the calmer the surface of a lake appears, the more likely it is to hide turbulent undercurrents beneath. This seemingly uneventful life continued for another two weeks. I didn’t want to dwell on these trivial matters anymore. My new work was already keeping me extremely busy, but I didn’t complain. Because my boss had promised that after completing this project, I would have more free time. Then I could spend more time with my daughter. Tuesday was a rainy day. Just before I got off work, my daughter called me from the kindergarten’s landline. Her small voice on the other end sounded excited: “Mom, you don’t need to pick me up after school. I’m going to Nini’s house for a birthday party. Her mom said she’d pick us up.” I quickly responded with a couple of “oh”s, asking her why she didn’t tell me earlier so I could have bought a birthday gift for her classmate. Going empty-handed would be impolite. My daughter’s voice was filled with pride: “Miss Diana already took me shopping. She helped me pick out a gift, a crystal music box. It cost over $100!” So expensive? I was stunned, my suspicions growing stronger. Why would a kindergarten teacher help a student buy such an expensive gift for someone else? Miss Diana… it’s her again. Whenever my daughter talks about anything related to kindergarten, that woman’s name is always on her lips. As if she’s been bewitched. I had also privately asked other children, who all eagerly told me that Lily was their dance teacher’s favorite student. “She praises her every day. When others fail at doing the splits, they get punished to stand, but not her. Miss Diana is so gentle with her.” But I knew in my heart that my daughter didn’t have any particular talent for dance, nor was she diligent in practice. With this in mind, a flood of questions left me restless. I could only softly remind her to “be careful” before hanging up. My daughter on the other end seemed eager to end the call and quickly hung up. I held the phone in silence for a long time, then turned to my colleague and said: “Lisa, could you help me continue with this list? I have an urgent matter and need to leave work early.” My colleague looked troubled, “Olivia, you’ve been in charge of this overseas project all along. Even if I wanted to help, I couldn’t do it. I’m afraid I might mess things up for you.” My mind was in chaos, but I still didn’t want to jeopardize the company’s task or disappoint my boss’s trust in me. So it wasn’t until after 8 PM that I finally finished the list, exhausted. I didn’t even have time for dinner before rushing off to pick up my daughter. I looked through my daughter’s classmate directory and saw that Nini lived in Dream World Villa, Building 13. I quickly drove there. Nini’s house was very spacious. Because of the birthday party today, the doors were wide open, but strangely, there weren’t many people inside. The Filipino maid in the villa told me that Nini and the other classmates had all gone to the back bay to see the blue tears tide, a bioluminescent phenomenon. I quickly grabbed her and asked: “Did Lily go too? The girl with pigtails, wearing a red polka dot puff-sleeve dress.” The maid seemed to think for a moment, then replied, “Oh, I’ve seen her. She’s the child Miss Diana brought, right? They didn’t go to the beach, they’re talking in the house.” Everyone else had gone to play, why was she keeping my daughter in a room… I had an ominous feeling. Ignoring the maid’s attempts to stop me, I rushed into the house with my bag. I stopped at the door of the only noisy bedroom, frowning as I heard sounds coming from inside—
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