With tears streaming down, the pregnant woman's words ignited the fury of over a hundred thousand viewers on the livestream.
The questioning voices vanished, replaced by curses wishing death upon me and my unborn child.
For some reason, I felt a chill down my spine.
I checked the time—if I didn't leave now, I'd miss my prenatal appointment.
I exited the livestream, grabbed my bag, and opened the door.
But I hadn't expected to run into the support group just exiting the elevator.
As I was about to lock the door, the pregnant woman screamed to her group.
"Ladies, this bitch got news of us and is trying to escape! Stop her!"
The women stormed towards me, blocking my way at the front door.
"Bitch, you feel guilty and want to run now?
Seeing the hatred and madness in their eyes, I couldn't help but frown.
"I'm not a mistress, why should I feel guilty?"
"You bitch, how dare you deny it? You were quite arrogant when you threatened Lucy's husband."
I immediately shook my head.
"You've got it all wrong, I'm not—"
Lucy Lawrence, the pregnant woman, slapped me across the face, supported by another girl.