"That old monster raised a little monster! Old Mr. Young is the kindest soul in our whole town. He saved my life when he was young! And look what your family did to him!"
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The old man was rotten, so of course his kid's no better!"
"Hits a man and doesn't even have the guts to own up to it. Coward! Disgusting!"
Rotten egg dripped down my hair, wet strands plastered to my face. The stench churned my stomach so violently I clapped a hand over my mouth, fighting not to vomit.
One voice piled on top of another, all of them determined to pin this crime on me.
Then someone snatched a rock off the ground and hurled it straight at my head.
A bolt of pain split across my forehead, and the world before my eyes flooded red.
Blood smeared across my entire face, the metallic taste filling my mouth.
I trembled with rage, my gaze locking onto the man in the crowd.
Michael Young glared at me with undisguised hatred, still whipping everyone into a frenzy.
"My father served his country honorably his whole life and never wronged a soul. Nobody expected that in his old age he'd suffer something like this. He's still lying in the ICU, unable to get up!"
"I'm begging all of you, help us get justice. Make sure the person responsible pays for what they've done!"
The crowd's fury swelled. I was trapped in the center, and someone kicked me hard from behind where no one could see. Then again. And again.
Officer Chavez arrived just in time, pushing through the mob and dispersing them before pulling me free.
My face was a patchwork of bruises, my clothes stained with splotches of yellow. Up close, the stench was unmistakable.
"Just you wait. I trust the court will give my father the justice he deserves!"
Michael shot me one last venomous look before turning on his heel and leaving.
Once he got home, he uploaded a wildly exaggerated account of the whole incident online.
Countless strangers sneered at me and my grandfather. The comment sections were a wall of hate, every last one cursing us.
With the trial date approaching, not a single lawyer was willing to take my case.
In the end, the court had to appoint one for me before the trial could proceed.
Abner Finch had no intention of so much as speaking to me. He swept a sour look over my face and rolled his eyes.