“This is to unlock Emma’s physical potential, push him past his limits! It’s science—there’s no harm, only benefit!”
The other teachers and parents nodded along, smiling like this was perfectly reasonable.
“Exactly, Mrs. Foster. Your son is lucky to get such an opportunity!”
“Who knows, if he pushes himself hard enough, maybe his heart will heal on its own. You should be thanking Mrs. Brown!”
“If your kid refuses to exercise, he’ll ruin the sense of team spirit for all our kids. Then what? Our kids’ bright futures get destroyed because of him? Who takes responsibility for that?”
I stared at their shameless faces and finally understood.
This was Mrs. Brown’s trap from the very beginning.
Emma, terrified for me, kept running through tears, his gaze locked on me, begging for help.
Some of the betting parents began shouting when they saw him slowing down.
“Run, you little brat! I’ve got $10k on this!”
“If he drops, bring in a bigger dog! This Rottweiler’s useless!”
Mrs. Brown let out a sinister laugh.
“No need for that. His mom’s right here.”
“Hold her down. Everyone move aside. I want her to see this clearly.”
The crowd parted, and Emma and I locked eyes.
The Rottweiler was almost on him now, its barking deafening.
Every step he took looked like torture, like he was being flayed alive with every breath.
Mrs. Brown crouched down, grabbed my jaw roughly, and yanked open the top two buttons of my shirt.
Then she slapped me across the face, hard.
Smack!
Emma froze, horrified.
“Stop! Don’t hurt my mom!”
Mrs. Brown laughed cruelly and called out to him:
“Emma! If you don’t want Mommy to get hit again, run faster!”
“The faster you run, the fewer slaps she gets. Understand?”
“Yes! I’ll run! Just don’t hurt my mom!”
I watched as Emma clenched his teeth and took off again.
I shook my head violently, crying out:
“Emma, you’re going to hurt yourself!”
But I couldn’t tell him to slow down.
If he stopped, these people might do something even more monstrous.
Slaps kept raining down on my face, but I hardly felt them anymore.
Some of the men in the crowd took the opportunity to grope at me where I was pinned, laughing crudely.
I managed to slip a hand into my pocket, pressing down on the power button to call 911.
But before I could complete the call, Ms. Collins lunged forward, wrenching my hand away and yanking the phone out of my pocket.