Revenge17 min read
"I Divorced My Husband and Took His Son — Watch Me Break Them"
ButterPicks13 views
"I woke up with someone screaming my name."
"Get up, Kaleigh! Don't you dare die on me!" my mother groped at my face like the world might slip away if I stayed quiet.
I blinked. My head felt like someone had beaten it with a wooden mallet. Dirt under my nails. A web pressed against my forehead. I tasted iron.
"She's breathing! Praise God, she's breathing!" Eleanor Dunlap sobbed and hugged me so hard I almost couldn't breathe.
People crowded the yard, faces I did not know and faces I should have. They pushed and whispered. One of them reached toward my hair. I flinched.
"Who did this to you?" Eleanor kept crying. "Who pushed my girl down the hill?"
The word pushed landed like a brick.
My mind flicked like a bad lamp. Memory after memory poured in—strange scenes, not mine, not all mine. A cottage on a slope. A tall man named Wei Finch laughing with a small woman. Hands, a shove, my body rolling, a rock, the sky leaving me.
I sat up. "I didn't fall," I said before I knew I would. My voice sounded like someone else's.
The yard grew quiet except for my mother's sobs.
"Who?" she demanded.
"Wei Finch," I said. "He pushed me."
Gasps. Faces changed.
"Stop lying!" a woman near the fence shouted. "You're dead, you should be dead!"
Someone offered me a lump of spider web to press on my head. The village women moved like an old clock—first a beat of anger, then pity. Eleanor shoved the web on my wound. It stung.
"Why would he—" Eleanor muttered. "He will pay. I will tear him apart."
"Hey, old woman, calm down," another woman said in a small voice. She was weaker, more careful. Her name was Hana Bergmann, Wei Finch's mother. She folded her hands like a woman trying to breathe.
I looked at the people who had come to watch. They had the same eyes as the people in the memories. I recognized the cottage. I recognized the man who called himself a scholar and fed his pride like a dog fed scraps. He was thin and soft-mouthed and called himself a man of letters.
I felt something else then—a mechanical voice inside my head. It came like a light, cold and bright.
"Welcome, host," the voice babbled. "Flex System activated. Binding successful. Random task uploaded: recover your son, earn Remy Costa's trust. Slap the Wang family—no, the Finch family—face. Complete tasks, gain points. Reward: coins, goods, a new face potion. Let's flex!"
I jerked. "What the hell is that?" I whispered.
"She hears voices," someone muttered.
"System?" I asked the voice. "What do you want from me?"
"Host, I am the Flex System!" it sang. "The top-level face-slap system. Mission: flex, expose, flip the script. Task one: get your son Remy to trust you. Reward: five points."
"Points for what?" I snapped. My chest hurt like a drum.
"Points for the shop. Buy goods. Buy beauty pill. Buy items to fight back."
I was dizzy and furious and oddly calm. I had landed inside a fat woman's body. I was Kaleigh Jenkins now, with a cradle of meat and a bad haircut. In the mirror hanging on the cottage wall, I saw a face with too much fat, too many scars, and a stubborn chin. The town would laugh. The town would judge.
"Fine," I told the voice. "Show me the tasks."
"Task: collect Remy Costa's true-heart value. Start at zero. Feed him. Make him call you 'mother' without fear. Reach one hundred. Reward: one hundred points. Secondary task: public expose—make them know. Reward: ten points per person publicly disgraced."
"Great," I breathed. "A system that pays me back in public shame. Perfect."
Eleanor sobbed and fussed over me. "You partner will be back with blood on his hands. I will crush him."
"Don't talk like that, Mom," I said. "We need law, not anger."
"Law," Eleanor sniffed. "The only law here is the old ways. If you say he did it, he will answer."
Then she smiled—a dangerous smile. "We will write the paper of divorce. I will have it made. We will end this marriage."
"Divorce?" I echoed.
"Yes," Eleanor said. "He will be cast out. He will not own our child."
I felt something rise inside me—like cold fire.
I had memories of being a tough woman before, a leader of sorts in my old life. I knew how to make men take their lumps. This body was thick with strength. If I could swing, I could hit. If I could think, I could plan.
"Good," I said. "Let's do it."
*
The walk to the Finch household felt like walking into a play. People gathered in the lane. Mothers crossed themselves. Men spat. Word had already moved like a loose hen: Kaleigh Jenkins was alive. Kaleigh had her son. Kaleigh wanted to end the marriage.
At Wei Finch's doorstep, the man was pale and wild.
"Kaleigh! You—" His voice broke when he saw me alive. Then he recovered, like a man who had read a line in a book and knew when to act kind.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, holding his head like a scholar holding a book. "You should rest."
"Where is my child?" I said.
"Remy is inside," Hana Bergmann said, voice small. She looked at me like she had seen a ghost and was ready to cry too.
"Give him to me," I said.
Wei Finch tried to block me. He was thin, all bones and long sleeves. I hit the table and he jumped like a man who thought the world would end if someone touched his papers.
"Don't touch my desk," he snapped. "Those are—"
"I don't care about your desk," I said. "Give me my son."
He hesitated. Brianna Khalil, bright and light as a sparrow, stood at Wei's side. She blinked with an innocence that was fake as a papier-mâché moon. Her hands fluttered up, trying to look hurt.
"Stop," she said. "Kaleigh, please."
I took two steps faster than he could think. My hand found Remy before anyone knew. He clung to Wei at first, small and terrified, then he looked at me and stiffened.
"Remy," I said softly. "Come with me."
He looked at Wei, then at me. His eyes were big and wet.
"Mother, he will—" Hana stammered.
"You will not touch him," I said. "He comes with me."
Wei Finch's mouth opened. "You can't—"
"Watch me," I said.
The words 'divorce' fell from my lips like a hammer.
"I'm divorcing you," I said. "Here, now. I will write it, and I will take my son. You will have nothing."
Wei laughed at first, hollow and high.
"So dramatic," he sneered. "You think you can do that here?"
"Yes," I said. "And I will."
I went to the table, grabbed paper and a brush. Colin Ford—my eldest nephew—stood stiff at the doorway. He was used to doing things without thinking, but when I told him to write, he did, hands shaking.
"Write," I said. "Write down that I divorce Wei Finch. Add: 'He pushed Kaleigh down the hill. He had relations with Brianna and fled when she died.'"
Colin stared, then wrote, hands quick. Others watched. A few laughed. Many looked down.
Wei paled. "You can't make me sign that."
"You don't have to sign," I said. "You will be disgraced. The village will see you for what you are."
"Shame me." He tried to look brave. He failed.
Brianna trembled. "Kaleigh, stop this. You are making a scene."
"Good," I said. "The more people watch, the better."
I signed the paper crooked, my hand still shaking. But I signed.
"You are divorced," I told Wei. "You will leave our house. Remy is mine."
Wei's eyes burned with a stupid pride. "We will see who the villagers believe."
"Then show them when the villagers come," I said.
"Villagers?" someone shouted.
The whole lane joined in like a tide. The news moved fast: Kaleigh had kicked the Finch back. The scandal of the scholar and the young Brianna would strain the village's teeth.
Wei tried to call the village head, Boden Goto. Boden came, slow, chewing tobacco, hair long with worry. I watched him count the stakes.
"Kaleigh," Boden said. "What's this? People say you were dead."
"I was supposed to be," I told him. "Wei tried to kill me."
Boden frowned. "If that's true, it's a crime."
"Then act," I said. "Prove him or let us do what we will. I want Remy. I want Wei out."
Boden looked between us. "We need evidence," he muttered. "We need a meeting."
"Fine," I said. "Meet now."
Boden blew smoke, annoyed. He grabbed his coat like a man who had to touch papers.
"Call the council," he ordered. "We'll settle it tomorrow."
That night the Flex System chattered like a child.
"Task: public exposure. Action: force them to confess. Reward: ten points per confession. New task: get Remy's trust to twenty first. New shop item: healing pill—cost five points."
I stared at the screen the system made in my head. Five points for a pill that would ease the pain. I had none yet. I had Lucy's will, which is to say I had my fists and my mouth.
"Buy nothing," I told the system. "We have other ways."
"Host, your mouth is a tool. Use it."
"Fine," I said. "Let's use it."
*
That night at Wei's house was a show. Villagers came in a line like weather on a plain. Everyone took a seat. Boden perched on a wooden stool and puffed smoke. Wei stood like a man who had a rope in his pockets and was looking for a ladder.
"I heard that Kaleigh is dead," a woman said in a cheap voice. "But she isn't dead. This is strange."
"Tell the truth," Eleanor said. "You pushed her. You had Brianna with you. You made her fall."
Wei's face went gray. "You are lying," he said.
"Tell the truth," Eleanor shouted.
Brianna trembled. Her face was porcelain pretty; it made me sick inside to look at that face.
"Stop it, stop it," she said. "Kaleigh, I didn't—"
"Tell the truth," Eleanor said. "Tell who pushed her."
Brianna looked at Wei like a bird waiting to be fed.
"He—I was there," she said, voice small. "We argued. I... he—"
"Confess," I said. "Tell everyone what you did."
Brianna's lips trembled. "I only... we didn't push her. It was a shove, but she could have been saved."
"Hush," Wei said. "She slipped. It was an accident."
Eleanor's eyes were like knives. "You shoved her, you ran. You left her to die."
Wei's hands shook. "I did not mean to kill her."
"Then why run?" someone demanded.
Brianna cried. "Because I was scared."
"You feared men," Eleanor spat. "You feared them more than you feared life."
The villagers hissed and whispered. This is the part they loved—watching the proud drown.
But the law needed proof. Boden scratched his chin.
"We must not drown people on rumor," he said. "We will not sink a man on a story. There will be an inquiry."
The Hiss became small. A few of the crowd were unhappy. Wei smiled like a mad man.
"You see? The village protects scholars," he said.
I could feel the system nudging. "Task shift: get them to confess publicly. Reward increased."
Perfect.
"Then you will confess," I said. "You will confess in the square at noon tomorrow. Or you will not be a man. You will be a coward."
He flushed. He hated being called a coward.
"Fine," he said too loudly. "I will confess nothing."
"Okay," I said. "We will make noise."
The next morning I woke up dizzy and angry. The whole night the system had presented tasks like a hungry merchant. The score was still zero. Remy slept curled up like a small thing on my chest, breathing fast. I looked at his small face and felt fingers pull tight in my chest.
"Remy," I whispered. "We will start small."
The system dinged. "Task: feed the child. True-heart plus twenty."
I smiled with teeth I did not want to show. "Ok," I said. "Let's feed him."
He ate. He ate like a small wolf. His eyes watched me, cautious, then warm.
"Good boy," I said.
He smiled once, barely. The system chimed: "Remy true-heart increased to twenty."
I felt like I had won a small battle.
At noon we went to the square. Everyone gathered like birds around a fire. Wei Finch stood tall, clutching his paper to show he was a man of letters. Brianna held his sleeve like a child.
"Tell the truth!" Eleanor shouted in the crowd.
"Speak now," Boden said.
Wei swallowed. "I did not push Kaleigh," he said. "She fell."
"Who pushed her down the hill where we found her?" Eleanor demanded.
Silence.
"You're ashamed," I said. "You are ashamed because you are guilty."
"Confess," I told Brianna.
Brianna looked at the crowd and went pale. "I will tell everything," she said in a voice thin as paper. "Wei and I were together. She came to the hill and saw us. Wei shoved her. He panicked. He fled. He didn't want to be seen as a fraud."
Gasps. A thousand hands clapped like rain.
Wei's face broke. "No!" he screamed. "She is lying! You're a liar!"
"Then why run?" I asked.
"Because I was scared!" Brianna cried. "Yes! I was scared!"
That was enough. Shame poured into Wei like water.
"You coward," I said to him. "You push, then you run. You hide behind a book and a thin coat. Today we see you."
"Confess!" someone screamed.
He could not. He tried to spin. He tried to call the village's laws.
But the crowd had what they wanted: doubt. They saw the scholar and the pretty girl. They saw the fat, loud woman who now wanted the child. They saw the writing of divorce, signed by Kaleigh—cell by cell. Wei Finch could feel his world crumble.
By the time the sun touched the tiled roofs, his friends withdrew like cattle. People who had been curious now turned their interest into contempt.
"For shame," someone said. "He is a scholar. He should know better."
That night my house was full. Remy slept in my arms and smiled small when I hummed.
"Flex System: reward issued. Ten points gained."
I laughed like a small wild thing. "Finally," I said. "Now, what's next?"
"Secondary shop unlocked," the system said. "Item: Healing Pill—cost five points. Item: One month beauty elixir—cost ninety. Item: Fire matches—cost one."
I used points for matches. Five minutes later the room smelled like warm light.
"Eleanor," I said, "we're staying. I'm not leaving."
She looked at me with a soft grin I didn't deserve. "Good. I like it. We will not let the Finch clan shame us."
*
Week after week, I worked the tasks like a farmer tending a stubborn field.
"Feed Remy," the system said.
"Protect Remy," it said.
"Get one villager to publicly praise Remy," it said.
The villagers were prickly, but small things changed minds. I started by re-making bread. The smell of warm bread changed eyes. People came when the bread was fresh. A woman who had scoffed at me sat down, took a bite of a roll I pressed into her hand and her eyes softened. "Pretty," she said, simple as a bell. The system chimed: "Ten points."
I bought the healing pill. I swallowed it in front of Remy. The pain in my head eased. My body stopped buzzing. I felt a sliver less heavy. The system sang happily inside my head.
"Congratulations, host," it said. "You have five points left. Use them to charm."
I laughed.
I would not buy "charm." I would buy truth.
I turned the tasks into a war plan. Each morning I fed Remy, he smiled a little more. Each night I stopped Wei's men from entering the house. Each day I threw a loud word into the lane and let the story of the scholar who pushed a woman and left her for dead grow and rot his name.
One morning, as the winter turned to early spring, the village's gossip turned from "what will happen" to "what if." The council met; they argued. Boden, tired, called for quiet.
"We must keep the law," he said. "But we also must protect the weak."
"Then protect Kaleigh," Eleanor spat. "Protect my daughter."
A few men shivered and looked at Wei, who had become quieter. His pride still burned but it had no fuel. People had chosen a side that did not match the old comfort of being afraid of scholars. He had burned it himself.
At the market square, Brianna stood alone. People looked at her like she smelled of fish. She tried to hold her head high. A child threw a stone at her. It hit her in the arm. She fell with a cry.
"Look at her," I said, voice low. "She owns what she did."
"That's revenge," the Flex System said excitedly. "Full exposure. Confession. Ten points."
I took five more points. My total climbed.
But the system was not only about faces and points. It asked for human things. "Get Remy to call you mother," it demanded gently.
That was the hard task. Remy would not say the word. He was small, and the world had taught him to be silent.
"Call me Kaleigh," I coaxed every night. "Call me anything but 'who knows.'"
He would cuddle and sleep and sometimes open his mouth and call me "mother" in a voice like a question.
The system chimed. "True-heart plus twenty."
I cried at night like a weak tree. I thought of all the ways the old body had been cowardly. I thought of the woman who had worn this body like a mask and let the child be beaten because she loved comfort more than a child.
"This is our job," I told Remy. "We will fix this."
He looked at me and smiled, and my hard chest softened.
*
Wei did not fold easily. He met me once in the lane, face pale and thin.
"Stay away from my son," he whispered.
"He's my son," I said.
"Not legally," he said. "I will take him in court."
"Try," I said.
"Do you know how the law goes?" he asked. "You cannot just take a child away."
"Watch me," I told him.
We fought in half-lies and threats. He smiled with a false honor. Brianna followed his shadow, weeping. She was small and afraid and ruined.
I wanted to do more than spit at their reputations. I wanted to break them, to make them small and ashamed, so no one would trust them again. I planned and I plotted using the system as my bookkeeper. The points piled like coins in my mind.
One night, with a speed I did not expect, people turned against Wei. The council asked him to leave his duties. Men who once bowed now crossed the lane to spit on his name. The scholar's life crumbled. He tried to go to the city to find someone to hear his plea, but no one came to help.
"Flex System: you have reached thirty points," it said. "Shop unlocked: A month of false-beauty elixir for ninety points. Special weapon: public testimony gathering for ten points."
"Give me the testimony tool," I said. "I will collect witness statements about Wei's behavior. I will make a pile."
"Ten points," the system said.
I smiled and spent the points.
The testimony tool was ridiculous—mostly it meant the system showed me scenes where the truth was made plain. It gave me a list of people to talk to. I went door to door. I went to the woman who had been in Wei's garden that summer when Brianna came. I went to the man who had seen Wei and Brianna hiding in a shed. Each person gave me a small thing: a look, a watch, a partial truth. I stitched them together.
At the council, I stood like a small soldier.
"Boden," I said. "You need to act. Men will not be safe with someone like Wei in a place of trust."
He looked at me like I was mad, then he saw the list of names. His hand trembled.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"From the town," I said. "From the people."
We read the list. People told the truth. Wei had been careless. He had not been a man. He had been a coward and a cheat. He had left a woman to die.
Finally Boden said, "We will remove his honors. He will leave the council."
"Good," I said.
Wei's face turned red as if someone had poured paint on him. He stormed out of the room.
He would fight me, but he would do it with no allies left. People love the hero, but hate the liar. He had become the liar.
*
Weeks passed. Remy called me "mother" without fear. He laughed with the kind of small joy only a child can carry. The system chimed often, like a small greedy bird.
"True-heart at sixty," it sang. "Host performance excellent."
I used a few points to buy medicine. I used one to buy a warm blanket for Remy. I used one to buy a small charm that made him fall asleep easier. The system kept a ledger of kindness.
Yet my heart wanted something else: real revenge. Not just public shame but complete exposure.
I found my chance at the Spring Festival, when the whole village came to the square to dance and drink. Wei thought he could sneak there, and be seen as a man who had been forgiven. He tried to smile like a man who had returned from war.
"Tonight," the system whispered. "Expose him. Let the village hear every piece. Make Brianna confess fully."
I nodded. I did not need the system to tell me. I had planned a trap.
At the festival we stoked the fire high. Music thrummed. People drank liquor that made them louder. I stood and spoke softly but clearly.
"Do you remember the hill?" I called. "Do you remember when a woman fell and was left?"
A hush. It sounded like snow.
Brianna could not keep her face. She tried to sink down. I walked toward her, then stopped, then looked at the crowd.
"Yes," she said. "I will tell."
She told the whole story: how Wei had pushed, how he had grabbed her and screamed, how he had run when he saw they had made a mistake. She explained how weak they had been and how the scholar had believed his own lies.
"Why did you stay with him?" one old woman asked.
Brianna looked small. "Because I was young," she whispered. "Because I thought being with him would be safe. Because I was afraid to leave him."
"Then you were selfish," Eleanor cried.
Remy looked at me. He held my hand and squeezed.
"Flex System: confession recorded. Reward thirty points."
The crowd roared. Wei stood like a hat on a pole. No one helped him.
He left that night. No one spared him. He had lost his place. The man of books had nothing left but a long coat and a ruined chest.
I had won, but I had also lost something strange inside: the fire that made stones feel light.
*
Spring rolled into a warm, green time. Remy's laugh filled our rooms. Children came to visit. People finally let him sit at the long table with their kids. They saw him as a child, no longer as a filthy secret.
"You're a good mother," Eleanor told me once, half crying and half laughing. "You took him and made him warm. I never thought we'd see this."
"I never thought I'd be a mother," I said.
"You are," she said. "And you are fierce."
The system was calm now. "True-heart reached ninety," it said gently one night. "Final push to one hundred: host must say a promise aloud to Remy."
I looked at him sleeping, small and trusting. I thought of the woman who had used this body to sleep with men for a few coins. I thought of the life I had before, and I thought of all the cheap laughs.
"Remy," I said in the morning, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I promise you this: I will protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you. I will fight for you. No one will break you again."
He blinked, and then he reached for my face and touched my cheek with a child's small hand.
"Mother," he said into the air like a sentence made of warm bread.
"Flex System: true-heart one hundred. Task complete. Reward: one hundred points. New item unlocked: 'Complete Face-Slap Package'—use to fully expose a clan and gain final shop rewards. Also, beauty potion unlocked. Host eligible for 'Rebirth' purchase."
I felt my heart twist with a new hunger. For a moment I thought of the beauty potion. I had been offered a chance to be pretty—only the body would be more beautiful within a month. I looked down at my hands, callused but strong. I looked into Remy's face, trusting and bright.
"No," I said out loud.
The system went quiet. "Host?" it said.
"I'll buy a small thing. Matches." I laughed. "I will not trade myself for their small comforts."
Flex gave me the matches with a hiss of approval.
I took Remy into the yard. I taught him to catch a ball. I taught him to walk a straight line with a stick. He learned to laugh out loud. He learned to say his name. The system recorded everything.
In the end, the village could not forget what Wei had done. He left and his name shrank. Brianna left too, silent and pale, moving like a ghost who had eaten her own shadow.
Life here was rough and small. But it was also real and mine.
One afternoon a man from the city came. He had read about the scholar who had fallen. He wanted to hire Wei back as a clerk. Word spread. But by then the villagers had bonded to Remy and to me.
"If you try to come back," I told Wei quietly when I heard, "you will find that the ground here is not for men who shove women down hills."
He was gone. He had nowhere to stand.
Eleanor sat with me one night under the dim lamp. "You did it," she said. "You made them take notice."
"We," I said. "We did it."
She laughed and cried at once. "You have the child, the house, and the truth." She touched my hand. "What more could a woman want?"
I looked at Remy, sleeping on the simple quilt. He had my own face now: soft, stubborn, small. I kissed his forehead.
"Sleep," I whispered. "We start a new life. We will leave if we must. But for now, this is ours."
The system chimed one last time that night.
"Host," it said, "you have completed the core tasks. Rewards unlocked: protective clan acknowledgment—villagers now will defend Remy. Also, a final item: 'Harmony Token'—use it to secure life in a town or to buy a path out to the city with funds. You now have 120 points."
A slow smile came into my face like a quiet light.
"Hear me," I told the machine. "No more face-slapping for me. I did the work. I took him back. I taught him to fight and to laugh. I want to go—and I want to stay."
"Host," the system hummed. "Choice unlocked."
I looked at Remy, small and breathing. I looked at Eleanor, who had turned a lifetime of gossip into a shield for her child. I looked at my hands. I could change my face with the potion. I could buy a new life and vanish into the city with coins and a child's hand.
Or I could stay and make this place better.
The sound of the village at night came in: the dog barking, the women laughing, the men returning late from fields. It smelled like grass and bread. It tasted like endurance.
I thought of what I had learned: power is not always in a perfect face. Often it's in a hand that will strike when needed and a mouth that will speak truth. The Flex System taught me that the world can be hacked by proof and by will. But the warmest reward had been the small hand that called me mother.
I rose and tiptoed over to Remy. He put an arm around my neck with all the trust a child had to give.
"Good night," I said.
He squinted like a judge who had just approved the world. "Good night, mother," he murmured.
I lay down in that wide, heavy body. It was mine now, and mine to defend. Outside the window, the moon hung low like a lamp. The world felt simple for once: I had my son, I had my mother, and I had a little list of points and promises in my head.
"Flex System," I said into the quiet. "You did your job. I did mine."
"Host," it replied gently. "Reward: you have earned new authority. Use it wisely."
I closed my eyes. My last thought was a plain one.
"Tomorrow we start again," I whispered.
Remy breathed next to me, soft and even.
"Tomorrow," he whispered back.
We fell asleep together. The village slept around us. The world outside could do what it pleased. I had learned to break them, and to protect what mattered. I had bound the system and my own hands into one promise.
When the sun rose, I would hold Remy and walk into the town square again—not to break but to declare we were here to stay.
The End
— Thank you for reading —