"Shave this wretch's head! Let's see how she dares to seduce men in the future!"
These people were prepared for this.
As soon as Juliet gave the order, several of them pulled out scissors from a black bag.
Then, with sinister smiles, they approached me.
I looked young for my age and had always been attractive.
But I had a leg problem that, despite years of treatment, could never be fully cured.
This was a sore spot for Lamont. He most dreaded anyone calling me a cripple.
He would never bring up my condition voluntarily.
Yet, ironically, it became the very reason these people refused to believe my identity.
Seeing that they were about to cut my hair, I struggled and shouted again.
"I really am Lamont's mother! If you don't believe me, you can call him and ask!"
My words only made them bolder.
They surrounded me, cutting my hair haphazardly while slapping my face repeatedly.
"You shameless mistress, still lying even after being exposed? Let me beat that filthy mouth!"
Soon, my face was swollen, red, and bruised. My scalp, now bare, was covered in bloody cuts from the violent haircutting.
Seeing this, Juliet burst into a satisfied laugh.