The maids swarmed up.

Mom stood in front of Dad and me, shouting hoarsely, "Don't you dare! John Carter is my…"

Before she could finish, Ashley pushed her away. She stumbled a few steps and fell into the snow.

My eyes were bloodshot. I wanted to rush over, but two maids held me down tightly.

They roughly tied us up with ropes, like dragging dead dogs, and dragged us out of the villa into the snow.

It was snowing heavily in Houston, with a thick layer of snow crunching underfoot.

I was thrown into the snow, the icy water instantly soaking my thin clothes, the biting cold making me shiver.

Ashley stood at the villa's entrance, a playful smile on her face.

She clapped her hands, and the maids immediately understood.

They started grabbing the snow on the ground, forming snowballs, and throwing them at us.

The snowballs hit me, icy and painful. What made me feel even more humiliated was the feeling of being treated like a toy.

I struggled desperately, yelling, "Stop! They are John Carter's parents!"

However, my shouts were drowned out by the wind and snow, and no one paid attention to my protests.

The snowballs kept coming, hitting my face and body.

My face felt burning hot, and my body started to numb.

Dad was old and not in good health. After being tossed around like this, his face was pale, and his lips were purple.

Mom couldn't stand the humiliation and cold either. She kept cursing Ashley, her emotions agitated.

Suddenly, Mom's voice stopped abruptly.

I saw her face turn blue and purple, her body began to convulse violently, and then her eyes rolled back, and she fainted.

"Mom!"

I shouted in horror, struggling desperately to check on her.

The maids next to me were also frightened by Mom's sudden fainting. They stopped and looked at each other.

I seized the opportunity to break free, crawled to Mom's side, and kept calling her name.

Mom's breathing became weaker and weaker, and her face became paler and paler.

I was anxious, constantly begging the maids around me to help call an ambulance.

Perhaps Mom's condition scared them, and finally, someone ran to call an ambulance.

Ashley stood at the door, watching all this with a disdainful smile still on her face.

She looked down at me and said, "Consider yourself lucky to have a mom who gets sick."

"Get out of here and don't dirty my place!"

Dad lay in the hospital bed, silently shedding tears.

He clutched my hand tightly, his knuckles white, his lips trembling, but he couldn't say anything.

My heart felt like it was blocked by a giant stone, heavy and suffocating.

I resented John's cruelty and thought about just giving up.

But looking at Dad's desperate eyes, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I had to find John and make him take responsibility.

I rushed into John's office, and the scene before me froze me in place.

Ashley was sitting on John, wearing only a men's shirt, the collar wide open.

They were disheveled, their hair messy, and the air was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.