Labels like “beast’s son,” “villain,” and “scammer” became synonymous with me.
With the streamers adding fuel to the fire,
the crowd at the scene began throwing eggs and rotten vegetable leaves at me.
I stepped on the filth, pushed through the mob, and approached Susan:
“Susan, are you really going to take things this far?”
Susan frowned slightly. Before she could speak, Michael piped up again, tears streaming down his face.
“Chris, even though your father is dead, I haven’t been feeling well lately!”
“Please, please let me go. Stop holding me back!”
Susan’s eyes flashed with heartache, then she looked at me firmly.
“Chris, you brought this on yourself.”
“Your father was struck and killed because he was scamming people. You shouldn’t keep suing and making life hard for Michael.”
“Michael’s new car was damaged by your father. He’s kind enough not to charge you for repairs, yet you still nag me. No wonder your father died young, having such a vicious son like you!”
The moment the words left her mouth, someone in the crowd who looked like my father stepped forward, and a murmur ran through the crowd and fixed his gaze on Susan.
"Who's dead?"
