When Zhuang Xintian woke up again, her father was sitting beside the bed with a blank look on his face, staring at the wall in a daze.

His face was pale, his lips were bloodless, and he seemed to have aged many years in an instant.

She looked around for a while, but her mother was not by her bedside? Maybe she had gone to work.

As she thought about this, she started crying again.

They are all escaping, but there is always someone cruelly pushing them back to reality.

Yan Fang died in a car accident.

The surveillance camera on that road was broken. After a ground investigation, the traffic police's appraisal report stated: Yan Fang ran a red light.

Zhuang Xintian was sad at first, but was soon overwhelmed by anger.

"No, my mom didn't run a red light!"

She was only 12 years old that year, in the sixth grade, and no one was willing to listen to her as a child.

"I saw it with my own eyes. I confirmed it at the time. I turned around and saw that our light was green, and then I looked at their light and it was red. I really saw it!" She tried to clarify with the police.

"That road has no lights and few cars, so many electric bikes get into accidents because of this..."

"That was someone else, not my mother! My mother has never violated traffic rules!"

"Then why? Why didn't you two wear helmets? Did you know that not wearing a helmet is illegal? If your mother had worn a helmet at the time, the consequences would definitely not have been so severe."

"But, from what I saw with my own eyes, we really did have the green light."

"You may have seen it wrong. Why did you say you double-checked? It's just crossing a street. Don't you think you were being very deliberate when you said you double-checked the traffic light?"

"Because the car was coming very fast, it didn't seem like it was going to stop at a red light, so I thought my mom had mistaken the light, so I checked it."

"Anyway, the results of the ground survey are out now. We compared the traffic light times and the scratches on the ground, and it is true that you ran a traffic light."

"Is it possible that you are mistaken?"

"Will not!"

"No, you are just mistaken! You are covering up!"

It was broad daylight at the moment, but Zhuang Xintian felt as if the entire sky was shrouded in darkness.

Zhuang Xintian knew everything in her heart, but she had no evidence to prove it.

Dad believed him, but there was no evidence.

They did everything they could.

Making trouble at the traffic police station.

Go to the store owned by the couple who caused the accident and make trouble.

Seek help from the media, the Internet, and lawyers.

But in the end, they couldn't overturn anything.

What was even more devastating was that Zhuang Xintian didn't even get to see her mother for the last time. Her body was cremated, leaving only her portrait and urn to pay tribute to her.

Captain Yuan Yuan of the traffic police brigade also tried to persuade him again and again.

"Now that the matter is set in stone and cannot be changed, let's settle it privately as soon as possible. The other party is willing to pay an additional 500,000 yuan.

If you make trouble again, they may refuse to give it to you!

Besides, the dead cannot be resurrected, so the living should live well. I think her spirit in heaven would also want you to live well, so let her rest in peace."

Zhuang Xintian stared at Captain Yuan coldly and said, "What a joke, can I use half a million to buy your life?

Can this 500,000 yuan buy my mother back to life? We don’t want money, we want justice!

They are fully responsible, they must be sentenced and have their lives paid! Otherwise my mother will die with regret.

If you help that bastard couple, my mother will never let you go, just wait! You will not die a good death!"

Such vicious and cruel words came from the mouth of a 12-year-old girl, which shows how much harm her mother's departure has caused her.

Therefore, others will not blame her, but will feel more pity for her, because she will be an uneducated and uneducated child without a mother in the future.

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