The Disgraced Teacher's Ruthless Return

her. Now, he was back, paying for my father' s life-saving surgery to play the benevolent hero. But his fiancée, jea

t you've done! Yo

my father's cooling body while comfort

proving we were both framed, just

cting her, gaslighting me into

ll the helpless victim

' s death was just ano

d, my phone buzzed with a message

e to bury Cameron Vins

sters preening over

and typed back a

over. The time for a ho

pte

lia

quantitative analysis. Then, they carved it into a different kind of headline: "

math teacher in a town so quiet, the biggest

ved, a stark contrast to the silk blouses and tailored suits of my past. Dignity, I told myself, was an internal garment, one they co

and reputation, collateral damage in the war waged against me. His ailing health was

ying to look philanthropic. I was there because Mrs. Henderson, our principal, h

gne flutes. I nursed a glass of lukewarm ginger ale, feeling utterly out of plac

gh the crowd. A hush fell, then

.. Camero

m. My heart, a muscle I usually kept under

ly, as if aga

here

private gyms and disciplined mornings. His hair, once tousled in a boyish way, was now expertly styled, framing a face that had

wer and success. A decade had erased any trace of the ambitious young man I on

dshake was a calculated gesture, every smile a strategic weapon. He exuded an aura of untouchable influen

is command. He was the architect of his own destiny, and mine, too, it seemed. My mundane existe

s presence was a grotesque invasion, a ghost from a past I had painstakingly buried. My ca

selective blindness, especially when it came to the pain he inflicted. He wouldn't ackno

e couldn't. I had shed my old identity like a snake shedding its skin, leaving behind only the

ing, was a relentless hun