A Missing Key 218 Missed Calls One Family Secret novel Chapter 38

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After that whole scene, my life got back to normal, but something was different.

I wasn’t just the little girl who needed protecting anymore. I knew I had people watching my back, but I also needed to learn how to face storms on my own.

A few years passed. I started middle school and kept getting top grades.

Mom made up for all the childhood I’d missed. I learned piano and painting, and grew into a confident young

woman.

Dad’s restaurant business kept growing too. He took over the shop next door, expanded, and hired some help.

But he still cooked my favorite beef burger himself.

I thought everything from the past was buried for good.

Then one day, Mom went to school for parent-teacher conferences.

When she came back, she looked upset.

That evening, she finally told me what happened. My homeroom teacher had pulled her aside for a private talk.

Turns out my so-called “birth mother” had shown up at school, crying to the teacher about how our family was “bullying” them, saying Dad was some kind of “gangster” who’d used violence to “steal” her daughter.

She even hinted that I wasn’t happy in this home, that I was being forced to stay.

Rumors spread like wildfire through the small community.

“No wonder Mia’s always so quiet. She must be hiding something.”

“That dad does look pretty scary, and he’s got tattoos on his arms…’

Mom was shaking with rage. “How can they be so shameless! Twisting everything around!”

Dad sat on the couch, not saying a word, just smoking.

The room was thick with smoke. I could see the veins bulging in his clenched fists.

The tiger on his arm looked especially fierce under the lamplight.

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Chapter 6

I knew he was holding back his anger.

If this had happened when I was little, he probably would’ve stormed out and torn that family apart.

But now he had me a daughter who needed him to set a good example.

–

Right then, I made a decision.

I walked over, took the cigarette from his hand, and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“Dad,” I looked into his eyes and said calmly, “let me handle this myself.”

Both Mom and Dad stared at me, confused.

I didn’t explain much.

That night, instead of studying, I spent hours researching online and calling legal aid hotlines.

The next day, I took a half day off school.

Using a burner phone, I called my “mother’s” number.

When she picked up, I made my voice sound tearful and scared on purpose.

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