Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 17

She didn’t stop her. Instead, she hauled the half-drowned Daisy out of the water and efficiently ripped the dress off her body.

Daisy screamed in terror, but Yvonne dragged her out of the room and threw her directly into the crowded living room below.

Queena was already there, sobbing as she told Teresa what had happened.

The ladies were still trying to figure out what was going on when Yvonne tossed the half-naked Daisy onto the floor in front of them.

Daisy was a mess—soaking wet, her hair a tangled mat, snot and tears streaming down her face. Yvonne had mercifully left her in her underwear, but she was still a picture of utter humiliation.

Mrs. Smith nearly fainted. She let out a piercing scream and rushed to embrace her daughter.

“What did you do to my daughter?” she shrieked at Yvonne.

“I only did to her what she was planning to do to me,” Yvonne replied, her expression a mask of pure innocence. She then held up a phone.

Daisy’s voice, clear and cruel, echoed from the speaker: ‘Let’s do something big today. Let’s strip her naked and throw her out of the room so everyone can see what a pathetic slut she is…’

Mrs. Smith’s face went from white to red. “Daisy was just joking with you!” she sputtered defensively. “And you resorted to this level of violence!” She then turned to Teresa. “Mrs. Spencer, if you don’t give me a satisfactory explanation today, I will not let this go.”

Teresa was also livid. If not for her injured foot, she probably would have lunged at Yvonne and slapped her.

“You wretched thing! Apologize to Mrs. Smith and Daisy this instant! If they don’t forgive you, I will make you regret it.”

Yvonne looked at Teresa’s furious face and could only laugh internally. This was her biological mother, convicting her based on a one-sided story without even giving her a chance to explain.

Yvonne calmly took out another phone—Daisy’s phone.

A few moments later, Rachel and Edith were helped downstairs by a maid. They weren't as disheveled as Daisy, but they were far from unscathed. They rushed to their mothers and began their own tearful recounting of events.

After they had finished, Queena chose her moment to speak. “Yvonne wasn't like this before,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s happened to her lately. She’s become so… violent.”

Queena wasn’t stupid. The change in Yvonne was so drastic that she was clearly becoming suspicious.

“She’s right!” Rachel exclaimed, a look of dawning realization on her face. “That bitch… we used to be able to slap her until her face swelled up like a pig’s, and she wouldn’t even make a sound. How is she so strong all of a sudden? It’s like she’s possessed by a ghost!”

The atmosphere in the living room grew tense. Mrs. Young, Mrs. Ward, and Teresa exchanged complex, uneasy looks.

“Rachel, don’t talk such nonsense. You’re too old to believe in such things,” Mrs. Young said, scolding her daughter.

“But maybe Rachel has a point,” Queena said timidly, though her eyes were darting around calculatingly. “How does Yvonne know how to fight? I doubt her foster parents would have paid for martial arts lessons.”