My daughter held up her drawing book, pointing at the row of cars parked in our garage, asking which one she should draw. That’s when I found out her kindergarten had assigned homework: little ones had to draw their family car. And write a sentence: “My dad’s car is a XX brand, and he drives this car every day to take me to kindergarten.” My brows furrowed at this assignment. Was this just a sneaky way to peek into our financial standing? I knelt down, stroking Daisy’s head. “Draw whichever one you like best, sweetie.” Daisy thought for a long time, then finally said, “I don’t like any of them. I like the little pickup truck the bunny dad drives in the cartoon.” She handed in her homework, expecting praise from her teacher, but instead, she faced constant targeting. I called Mr. Harrison, the principal, to complain, but Ms. Thorne only escalated her behavior. She even started live-streaming, portraying my daughter as a spoiled, bratty kid, leading to her being cyberbullied by thousands online.
When I got home that evening, Daisy didn’t rush over like usual when she heard me unlock the door. I called her name a few times, but there was no answer. The clock hands pointed to eight. Usually, by this time, she’d be on the couch, watching her favorite cartoon. Mrs. Davis hurried down from upstairs. “Ms. Sterling, you’re back.” I handed her my coat, asking, “Where’s Daisy?” “She’s asleep, ma’am.” “So early?” Mrs. Davis explained, “She looked a bit off when she came back from kindergarten. She went straight to her room the moment she got back and didn’t even eat dinner.” My brows knitted with worry, afraid she might be sick. I went upstairs and gently pushed open her door. The person on the bed, hearing the movement, turned over, pulling back the covers to look at me. “Mommy.” I sat by her bed, turned on the night light, and felt her forehead. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you not feeling well?” Daisy shook her head. Feeling her forehead, confirming her temperature was normal, my heart finally eased. My gaze was drawn to the drawing book on her nightstand. “Are you drawing? What did you draw? Can Mommy see?” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, saying uncertainly, “My drawing isn’t very good.” “Nonsense! Mommy thinks your drawings are the most beautiful in the world, darling.” I flipped through the drawing book, only to find the last few pages filled with all sorts of cars. The drawings grew more agitated, more chaotic with each page. Until the very last page, messy, tangled lines completely buried the picture beneath. I instantly knew something was wrong. Daisy was always so emotionally stable; she’d never expressed herself like this before. I helped her sit upright, asking with concern, “Tell Mommy, why did you draw so many cars?” She bit her lip, her eyes red. “Teacher said my drawing assignment was the worst in the whole class.”
My heart sank. Even if her drawing wasn’t perfect, a teacher shouldn’t tell her that to her face. Especially not Daisy, who’s just a kindergartner. A single comment from a teacher could easily kill a child’s interest in something. But I also knew I couldn’t just take a child’s word for it. Maybe the teacher didn’t say that at all, and Daisy just misunderstood. I pulled out my phone and opened the SnapChat group chat for the class. Just as I was about to private message the class teacher to get the full story, I saw the “excellent student works” she’d posted in the group that afternoon. I clicked in and saw they were all luxury cars: Ferraris, Rolls-Royces, and the “worst” were BMWs and Mercedes. And those drawings, far from being “excellent,” some of them had crooked, wobbly lines; you could barely make out the car’s shape. Only the car logos were strikingly clear. I suddenly remembered a few days ago, when Daisy pointed at the cars in the garage and asked me which one to draw. She said it was school homework and needed a caption: “My dad drives this car every day to take me to school.” Daisy had deliberated for a long time and ended up drawing the little pickup truck from a cartoon. It all clicked for me. This teacher’s standard for judging homework wasn’t based on artistic skill, but on the car’s value.
Aurora Kindergarten, where Daisy went, was the best private kindergarten in the city. It wasn’t uncommon for elite families to send their children there, and of course, some ordinary families bit the bullet, scraping together every penny to get their kids in. Getting into this kindergarten meant guaranteed admission to Aurora Group’s affiliated middle and high schools, and studying abroad would also be much simpler later on. I specifically chose it for the opportunities and benefits behind it, which is why I enrolled Daisy. Before this incident, I was quite satisfied with the kindergarten. Not only because of the school’s excellent faculty, but more so because of how well they protected student family privacy. That was until this semester started. Daisy’s original class teacher went on maternity leave, and a young new teacher took her place. Ms. Thorne. The first thing she did was send out a survey form, asking kids to take it home for their parents to fill out. It was all questions about parents’ jobs, annual income, and so on, saying she wanted to “understand the students better.” My husband, Mr. Evans, and I are both well-known entrepreneurs, each with our own ventures. We knew that standing out too much could draw unwanted scrutiny. So, we just filled out that form casually and handed it in. I hadn’t thought much of it, but now with this new incident, I couldn’t help but suspect this teacher had ulterior motives. Daisy was going to elementary school next semester, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, she’d also be attending Aurora. I wanted her to finish her kindergarten years happily, and I was afraid she’d be discriminated against again in the future. So, I called Mr. Harrison, the principal. The phone rang less than twice before he quickly picked up. Mr. Harrison’s overly eager voice came through the receiver. “Ms. Sterling, why are you calling me personally? Is there a problem with the investment?” I stated calmly, “I always believed your school highly values student privacy. Yet, with these survey forms and drawing assignments about family cars, what exactly is your school trying to investigate?” There was a distinct pause on the other end; he stammered for a moment. “Wh-what?” “My daughter was unfairly scolded by her teacher because of this assignment. I do not want this to happen again. Otherwise, I will have to reconsider investing in your school.” Mr. Harrison quickly said, “Your daughter attends our school too? Ms. Sterling, there must be some misunderstanding. I will investigate this thoroughly and give you a satisfactory explanation.” I didn’t want to talk any further and hung up. These past few years, the education sector has been booming, with private schools springing up rapidly. Aurora had also faced quite a bit of impact because of this and had been seeking corporate funding. Because of Daisy, and also because my company specializes in AI, fostering talent is fundamental. So, I decided to invest in Aurora, and one of Aurora’s shareholders was Mr. Harrison, the principal of Aurora Kindergarten. I chose to deal with him regarding the partnership. Adhering to a strict boundary between my professional and personal lives, I had never disclosed my private information. So, he had no idea my daughter was actually attending Aurora.
After putting Daisy to sleep, I had just returned to my room when Mr. Harrison called again. “My apologies, Ms. Sterling. Ms. Thorne is new and perhaps a bit out of line. I’ve reprimanded her severely. I’m currently away on a business trip, but when I return, I’ll personally bring Ms. Thorne to apologize.” Mr. Harrison’s tone was sincere, and I didn’t want to make things difficult for them over this. So, I softened my voice and declined. “It’s fine, as long as this doesn’t happen again.” “Understood. We’ll still need your continued guidance and supervision in the future, Ms. Sterling.” After a few more polite exchanges, I hung up. But lying in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. My company’s new project was in its critical final stages, and my husband had also been away on business. We had indeed neglected Daisy’s development. I hadn’t even met the new teacher in person. After much thought, I decided to personally pick Daisy up from school tomorrow so I could talk to Ms. Thorne face-to-face.
The next day, I made sure to leave work right on time. At the kindergarten gate, lines of students streamed out in orderly rows. I scanned the crowd and finally spotted Daisy in her little floral dress. “Daisy!” I waved to her. She seemed surprised to see me, her face lighting up with joy. She quickly ran into my arms. I immediately noticed her messy hair. I knelt down, untangling her hair as I asked, “What did you play today at kindergarten? Your hair looks like a little scamp’s.” Daisy shook her head. “After nap time, the teacher didn’t comb my hair, so I just tied it up myself.” “What about the other kids? Did they tie their own hair too?” Daisy answered without hesitation, “No, Ms. Thorne braided all of theirs, especially Isabella’s braids, they were really pretty. But when it was my turn, the bell for class rang, and the teacher just left.” My eyes grew cold. Doing children’s hair was part of the teacher’s job. I didn’t expect her to make it look like a masterpiece. But she shouldn’t just walk away the moment the bell rings, right? I took Daisy’s hand and walked into the kindergarten. A few more children from Daisy’s class hadn’t been picked up yet, so the teacher was waiting with them by the door. I looked at the young teacher fanning herself in the shade and politely greeted her, “Hello, Ms. Thorne, I’m Daisy’s mom.” She looked up at me for a few moments, a little hesitant. “That’s not right, I haven’t seen you before.” Ms. Thorne remembered clearly that it was always a plainly dressed middle-aged woman who picked up and dropped off Daisy. But the woman in front of her was elegant and radiant, exuding an invisible aura of authority. I said, “I’m usually busy with work, so I haven’t been able to pick up or drop off my child much. I wonder if you have some time? I’d like to chat with you.” She flat-out refused. “You can SnapChat me if there’s anything important. After work hours are my private time, and I don’t want to deal with work matters.” “Then I’ll be brief.” I could hear the impatience in her voice, so I naturally dropped my polite tone. “Aurora has always valued student privacy. I do not want to see any more incidents of student backgrounds being investigated in various ways.” She scoffed. “Daisy’s mom, I’ve always followed school regulations. If you have a problem, you can always transfer Daisy to another school. After all, our Aurora isn’t just for anyone.” That last sentence immediately shut down any desire I had to continue the conversation. I sneered, “Whether there’s a threshold for admission, I don’t know, but there certainly seems to be no threshold for teachers. I will relay every word you said today to Mr. Harrison.” She casually shrugged. “Our principal is very busy; not everyone can get in touch with him.” I pointed at her. “Whether I can reach him is my business. You just wait to be fired!” “Big words! Even if every teacher in this kindergarten gets fired, I won’t be going anywhere.” I caught the deeper meaning in her words. “What, are you some big shot, indispensable to Aurora?” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, quite pleased with herself. “Naturally. Oh, well… you common folk wouldn’t understand.” I was about to retort when I saw her eyes light up. She grabbed a girl standing nearby and walked towards a woman who had just entered the entrance. “Isabella’s mom, you’re finally here! Isabella was so well-behaved today.” I watched Ms. Thorne’s fawning mannerisms, feeling utterly speechless. Isabella… that name sounded familiar. I seemed to recall that the top scorer on this assignment was Isabella. I pulled out my phone and opened the SnapChat group chat. It was indeed her. Although her drawing was crooked and distorted, the car logo was clearly identifiable as a Rolls-Royce.
Daisy tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, aren’t we going home yet?” I snapped back to reality, took her hand, and left the school. “Daisy, would you like to switch kindergartens?” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “But I still want to go to the weekend parent-child activity with you, Mommy.” “Okay.” I stroked her head, deciding to accompany her to this one activity, then proceed with the transfer. And as for the investment in Aurora, I also decided to withdraw it. An educational group that doesn’t prioritize character in its teachers, only background, isn’t worth my money. As soon as we got home, I saw a large bouquet of roses on the table. Just as I picked them up, someone wrapped their arms around my waist from behind, whispering in my ear, “Honey, I missed you so much.” “Daddy!” Daisy cried out excitedly. My husband released me, picked her up, and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “My precious girl, did you miss Daddy?” “Yes, I missed you every single day.” Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck. “Daddy, will you come to the school activity with me?” I playfully scolded her, “Just now you said you wanted to go with Mommy. Are you already breaking your promise?” Daisy made a funny face. “Mommy can come too!” My husband pulled me into his embrace. “That’s right, it’s been a while since the three of us were together. It’s perfect timing, my work is done, so I can spend some quality time with you both.” I nodded. “My project is almost finished too. Let’s go on a trip abroad soon.” “Yay!” Daisy clapped her hands excitedly.
Our reunion felt like a second honeymoon, and it wasn’t until late into the night that we quietly lay in bed, chatting. I told my husband about Daisy’s school situation. Regarding the suggestion to transfer schools, while he felt it was a bit inconvenient, he didn’t outright object. After all, it was the last semester, and he just told me to handle it as I saw fit. Weekend arrived in a blink, and as my husband and Daisy were organizing the things they needed to take to kindergarten. I received a call from my company. They said the newly developed robot suddenly malfunctioned. And the new product launch was scheduled for next Monday, so time was extremely tight. My husband was understanding. “The project is important. Daisy has me.” “Okay.” I kissed both their faces. “I’ll try my best to make it back.” I rushed to the company, where the technicians were already inspecting the product. They finally found it was a source code issue. The designer asked me, “Ms. Sterling, does the robot you have at home have this problem?” I paused for a moment, realizing I hadn’t seen that robot at home in a long time. Since it was a new product development, not yet mass-produced, only two units of this series had been made. One was the human-sized humanoid robot. The other was a small robot model that I had taken home for Daisy to play with. It was also a good way to test the robot’s performance and practical use at home, to make adjustments later. But it seemed that at some point, that robot had gone missing. And because I was too busy with work, I had just overlooked it. When I got home, I’d have to ask Daisy and find that little robot. Work wasn’t done until late at night, and the kindergarten activity had long since ended. I opened my phone and saw a dozen missed calls, all from my husband. Fearing something had happened, I quickly called him back. The moment the call connected, I heard my husband’s angry roar from the other end. “She absolutely has to transfer! What kind of damn kindergarten is this? What kind of damn teacher? I can’t trust Daisy there!” My husband was usually a gentle, even-tempered man; he’d never gotten this angry before.
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