My Son's Girlfriend Calls Me His Mistress and Kills My Youngest

***Prelude***

When my 7-year-old son got bitten by a snake, I didn’t waste a second. I rushed him straight to the hospital where my older son works, praying they could save him.

But what happened next hit me like a punch to the gut.

My older son’s girlfriend, who was on duty, saw us and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. She thought I was his lover, and that my younger son was some sort of mistake.

Not only did she block the antivenom from being administered to my son, but she slapped me hard across the face.

“My boyfriend and I are meant to be together!” she sneered. “How dare you bring your illegitimate child here to mess with me?”

She shoved me to the ground, slapping me again, her voice cold and cruel.

“Women like you need to be put in your place.”

By the time the staff finally stepped in, I was battered, bloodied, and barely holding on. They rushed me to the ER, and of all people, the surgeon on duty was my oldest son.

His hands shook as he held the scalpel, his face pale as he looked at me in disbelief.

“Mom… who did this to you?”

***Prelude ends***

My younger son, ever the curious adventurer, grabbed a snake and got bitten.

With my husband away on business and my older son working the night shift at the hospital, I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed a taxi and rushed to the emergency room where my son worked, praying they’d be able to help.

A glamorous nurse hurried over, quickly asking about my son’s condition. She arranged for a bed and started pushing him toward the ER.

I could barely hold back my tears as I explained the situation, pleading for them to save him.

She seemed more focused on the medical equipment, chatting away with other staff, barely acknowledging me. But just as the bed was about to be wheeled into the ER, it came to a sudden halt.

Confused, I asked what was going on.

The nurse’s eyes narrowed as she stared at my son’s face and then asked, “Do you know Brandon Mitchell?”

I nodded quickly. “Of course, I know him. He’s my—”

Before I could say “older son,” a slap landed across my face, shocking me to the core.

“What the-?” I gasped, clutching my burning cheek.

The nurse looked at me like I was dirt beneath her shoes. “Do you even know who I am?” she sneered. “I’ve been dating Brandon Mitchell for a year. We’re planning to get married.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I finally recognized her from Brandon’s social media posts. Jessica Mitchell.

I reached out, trying to make peace, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do in that moment. “I’m Brandon’s…” I started, but before I could finish with “mother,” another slap struck me, full force, leaving my face stinging.

“Don’t think you can steal my man just because you’ve got some looks,” she hissed.

She kicked me hard in the stomach, the pain doubling me over.

She looked down at my son, now pale and fading. “Is this the child you had behind my boyfriend’s back?”

I opened my mouth to explain, but she cut me off, her voice cold as ice. “We’ve got more urgent patients now. This one can wait.”

With that, she turned and walked away, dragging the nurses with her, leaving me standing there, stunned and helpless.

My mind raced, but my son’s condition was too critical to ignore.

I pulled out my phone, dialing Brandon’s number with trembling fingers.

Beep beep beep.