As soon as Veda’s words ended, the lively birthday banquet turned deathly still. Even the servers and emcees froze in place, scandals like this were not something they stumbled upon every day.
Everyone’s gaze fell on me, branding me as a shameless woman. After all, who would imagine a mother fabricating such filth about her own daughter?
Yet this was Veda’s true nature. Her favorite pastime was making such so-called jokes, no matter the occasion, jokes that cut instead of amused.
I recalled my childhood. While I bathed, she would suddenly scream as though she had fallen, crying for help. In my panic, I would dash out unclothed, only to find her waiting by the door, perfectly fine, phone raised, laughter trembling on her lips.
“Child, why aren’t you wearing clothes? I was just on a video call with my colleagues. Come, say hello to your uncles and aunties!”
I had been so furious I nearly fainted, but she turned to my dad and brother and said with a straight face, “I was only joking, testing to see how much she cared for me. How could I know she’d be so careless, running out without clothes?”