😵😱Only one black girl ventured to defend the millionaire’s son and become his friend after everyone laughed at him and called him a “robot.” However, her grandmother’s eyes widened in horror when she saw the boy one day, and she insisted that the boy’s parents be called right away.
— The robot has arrived!
The famous academy’s yard reverberated with laughter.
Ethan, twelve, the son of the city’s wealthiest developer, walked with a sad expression on his face.
Inside of him, every click of his prosthetic seemed like a heartbeat.
The fact that he was “different” was more significant than his pricey uniform or well-known last name.
One of the thugs yelled, “Hey, iron boy, are your batteries dead?”
Ethan shrugged and tried to blend in.
A quiet voice interrupted the laughter, saying, “Leave him alone.”
The crowd dispersed.
A black girl wearing old sneakers was standing in front of them.
One of the boys snorted, “Who are you?”
— His buddy, — she said coolly.
Quiet.
It was within these walls that Ethan first heard the word — friend.
And so their friendship was born.
Later, the grandmother examined the boy’s prosthetic in Naomi’s tiny apartment. and went white.
Her eyes were filled with anxiety, and her fingers were shaking.
“My God,” she muttered. — You were harmed by whom?
😨😲Grandmother Naomi stared at the boy’s prosthetic for a long time without saying anything.
Then she took a firm stand.
— I must talk to your folks right now.
Ethan looked down clumsily.
— My mother doesn’t exist. My stepmother lives with me. as well as a dad.
The grandmother’s lips were squeezed together.
Allow your dad to arrive. Right away. This cannot wait.
After a few minutes, she grabbed an ancient phone and, with a shaky voice, dialed the number Ethan had given.
— Mr. Carter? Mrs. Green is speaking now. You have to arrive right now. It’s about your son.
No objections were permitted by the tone.
A tall man wearing a pricey coat stepped into the room as the door swung open.
His eyes were assured but weary; he was accustomed to managing the city, not his own son.
He glanced at Ethan and questioned, “What’s happening?”
“Your son suffers not because of the injury but because someone is purposefully preventing him from recovering,” Mrs. Green remarked gently as she moved closer.
Pointing at the prosthetic, she said.
It has been altered incorrectly. This isn’t a coincidence. It damages muscles and creates pain.
The words pierced like blades. Sabotage?
However, it was his stepmother, Victoria, his father’s “caring” wife, who was looking after him.
The reality was revealed a few days later.
It was true that the prosthetic had been purposefully misaligned.
His muscles were weakened by the drugs he was taking.
Everything was under Victoria’s control, even the inheritance and the child’s helplessness.
Victoria was convicted.
The whole city was rocked by the scandal.
