1 This is the story of how I found my daughter—and how I tore down the world that tried to replace her. I found her through a glitch in the universe. I call them “The Whispers.” They appear as glowing, translucent lines of text hovering in my peripheral vision, like a live-stream chat from a world I shouldn’t be able to see. When the Whispers told me where my daughter was, after eighteen years of dead ends, I found her in the middle of a street brawl behind a dive bar in Jersey. Her hair was a jagged mess of neon pink and electric blue. Eighteen tattoos crawled up her arms like armor. She blew a plume of cigarette smoke into my face, her eyes hard and mocking. “So, you’re the billionaire bitch who gave birth to me?” Behind her, a girl who looked like she’d been plucked from the cover of Town & Country stepped out. She looked at me with wide, tearful eyes. “Hello, Mrs. Blackwood. I’m Sophie. I’m… I’m Nia’s best friend. I’ve been looking after her.” The Whispers flared up in a frantic neon scroll: [OMG, Sophie is so precious! Look at that pure angel face!] [The tragic mom is going to feel so guilty that she’ll adopt Sophie too. Sophie is the real star—she’s smart, sweet, and actually knows how to act like a Blackwood.] [Poor Sophie has suffered so much in the slums. I can’t wait for the mother-daughter bonding scenes between them!] In the eyes of these invisible spectators, my daughter was “Faith”—a placeholder name given to her by foster parents who only wanted her as a “lucky charm” to conceive a biological son. To them, she was nothing but an abrasive, disposable extra in Sophie’s Cinderella story. I stepped forward, my heart aching to pull my daughter into my arms, but she shoved me back. “If you want me to go back to your fancy estate, Sophie comes with me,” Nia spat. “She’s the only one who didn’t treat me like trash when I was starving.” Sophie stepped in, delicately wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “Please don’t be angry, Mrs. Blackwood. Nia—I mean, Faith—she’s had a hard life. She doesn’t know how to speak to someone like you. I’ll make sure to keep her in line so you’re happy, okay?” Sophie had soft, chestnut hair and the practiced poise of a debutante. The “Leading Lady,” according to the Whispers. But I didn’t care about the script. I only cared about the daughter I had spent eighteen years mourning. We arrived at the Blackwood estate in silence. As we stepped out of the Maybach, Sophie’s jaw dropped. She looked at the sprawling limestone manor with a look of practiced humbleness. “Is all of this yours, Mrs. Blackwood? It’s… it’s like a dream.” Nia was clearly shaken by the sheer scale of the wealth, but she maintained her “street-soldier” bravado. “I’ve seen better on Netflix. It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” I found her defiance adorable. I reached out and gently ruffled her neon hair. “Welcome home, Nia.” A tall, handsome young man was waiting at the grand entrance. My son, Gabriel. He looked at us with an expression of pure shock that quickly melted into a charming smile. He rushed toward Sophie before I could say a word. “You must be Nia,” he said, his voice warm. “I’m your brother, Gabriel. I’ve waited my whole life to meet you.” Sophie lowered her head shyly, her cheeks flushing. “Actually, I’m Sophie. Nia’s friend.” I cleared my throat and pointed to the girl with the tattoos and the lip ring. “Gabriel, you idiot. This is your sister.” Nia raised a hand in a lazy wave. “Yo.” Gabriel froze. His eyes darted between Sophie’s polished elegance and Nia’s combat boots and smeared eyeliner. He looked at me, bewildered. “Mom… are you sure there wasn’t a mistake at the DNA lab?” I pulled Nia’s shoulder into mine. “She is my daughter. My only daughter. I would know her anywhere. Come on, Nia. Let’s get you settled.” The Whispers flickered across my vision: [Enter the Male Lead! Gabriel is so hot. Too bad he’s a ‘warm-hearted second lead’ type who will never win the heroine’s heart.] [Just wait until the brother and the fiancé fall for Sophie. She’s the Main Character for a reason. The ‘Nia’ girl is just a stepping stone for Sophie’s rise to the top.] I felt a cold prickle of irritation. We walked into the grand parlor. I sat Nia down and held her hand tightly. “Nia, I want to officially change your legal name back. You aren’t ‘Faith’ anymore. You are Nia Blackwood. It was the name your father chose for you before he passed. Do you like it?” Her fingers twitched in mine. She looked away, trying to hide the fact that she was moved. “Whatever. It’s just a name.” Across from us, Sophie sighed, a wistful, melancholic sound. “I’m so happy for you, Nia. You finally have everything you ever wanted.” She looked down at her lap. “I guess I just don’t know what it feels like… to have a home.” Gabriel looked at her with immediate, heart-on-his-sleeve pity. “Mom, Sophie is Nia’s best friend. She’s been through hell with her. We have more than enough room. Why don’t we just adopt her, too?” Sophie looked up, suddenly “remembering” something. She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder, letting two sets of transcripts slide onto the coffee table. “Oh, Mrs. Blackwood, I don’t want to be a burden. I actually just got my acceptance letter from Princeton. If you take me in, I promise I’ll never bring shame to the Blackwood name.” She “accidentally” pushed both transcripts toward me. One was a perfect 4.0 GPA. The other was a mess of D’s and F’s. She gasped, trying to cover the failing one with her hand. “Oh! Not that one! That’s Nia’s… I didn’t mean to show you.” Gabriel leaned over and saw the scores. “A 1.2 GPA? Nia, are you serious? The Blackwoods have been intellectuals for generations. You look like a circus act, and you’re failing basic math? You’re nothing like Sophie.” Nia’s walls slammed back up. She snapped at him, “Oh, I’m sorry I was too busy learning how to not get stabbed in a foster home to worry about Calculus, Professor Jackass!” Sophie jumped up and grabbed Gabriel’s arm. “Gabriel, please! Don’t fight because of me! It’s all my fault!” She looked at me with watery eyes, but I wasn’t looking at her. I was looking at Nia’s transcript. “Wait,” I said, my voice quiet. “Nia, look at this. Your Logic and Set Theory score… you got a near-perfect on the standardized assessment? But you failed the homework and attendance portion?” Nia shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Multiple choice is easy. You just see the patterns.” I laughed, a genuine, bright sound. “My daughter is a logic prodigy. She doesn’t need to ‘study’ like a drone. Nia, you’re a Blackwood. You don’t need to be a teacher’s pet. I’ve accumulated enough gold and real estate to ensure you never have to work a day in your life if you don’t want to.” Nia looked stunned. She wasn’t used to being praised for her “accidental” brilliance. Through her heavy makeup, I saw a flicker of raw vulnerability. Sophie’s breathing became heavy. I turned to Gabriel, my voice turning sharp and authoritative. “Gabriel, Sophie has parents. She isn’t a stray kitten you find on the street. You don’t just ‘adopt’ someone because they have good grades.” Gabriel’s hand dropped from Sophie’s arm as if burned. “Sophie, I’m sorry. I’ll have the driver take you back to your place tonight.” The thought of going back to the cramped, grimy apartment she shared with her alcoholic father made Sophie’s composure break. She dropped to her knees on the expensive Persian rug. “Mrs. Blackwood, please! My father… he drinks. When he’s drunk, he… I can’t go back there. I just want a real family. I want a mother like you.” Gabriel looked pained, but he stayed silent, looking at me. Sophie began to sob, her head bowed. Nia immediately rushed to her side, pulling her up. “Mom, don’t be cold! If Sophie goes, I go! I won’t stay in this palace while she’s getting hit!” The Whispers screamed: [Sophie is the master of the ‘White Lotus’ act! She gets what she wants, no matter what.] [Nia is such a pawn. She has no idea she’s being used. Sophie is playing the long game.] I didn’t lose my temper. I looked at Nia’s fierce protection of her friend and felt a pang of pride for her loyalty, misplaced as it was. “Nia, calm down. I’m not heartless. I won’t adopt her—the legalities are too messy—but I can sponsor her. I’ll pay for her tuition, and she can stay here as your guest.” Nia nodded, mollified. “I don’t know what ‘sponsor’ means, but as long as we stay together, fine.” Sophie bit her lip. It wasn’t the “Blackwood Daughter” title she wanted, but it was a foot in the door. She nodded slowly. I took Nia up to the third floor. “This is Gabriel’s wing. This is my suite. And your room is right here, exactly in the middle.” I opened the door to a sprawling suite decorated in soft pinks, silk, and cream. It was a princess’s dream. Nia, in her black leather and chains, looked like a glitch in the room. She scoffed, calling the pink “tacky,” but I saw her eyes wandering over the canopy bed and the walk-in closet. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. Then, Sophie’s voice came from behind us. “Oh, Nia… it’s beautiful. It’s exactly the room I used to dream about when we were kids. That shade of pink was always my favorite.” Nia paused. She looked at Sophie, then at the room. She slapped her thigh as if she’d just had a great idea. “You know what, Soph? You love pink. Why don’t you take this room? I don’t care where I sleep.” Sophie looked shy. “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s the room your mother built for you.” “Screw that,” Nia said, throwing an arm around her. “I told you I’d look after you. I can sleep in a guest room.” Gabriel chimed in with a smirk. “At least you have some self-awareness, Nia. A princess room needs a princess. Sophie fits the vibe better than you anyway.” I felt a surge of cold fury. I looked at Gabriel, then at Sophie, who was already inching toward the door. “Sophie,” I said. My voice was like ice. She stopped. “I can have a room decorated for you. But the third floor is for family. It wouldn’t be appropriate.” I turned back to my daughter. “Nia, if you don’t like the color, I’ll have a team here tomorrow to repaint it midnight black or neon green. Whatever you want. But this is your room.” I looked at the housekeeper, Mrs. Miller. “Mrs. Miller, please take Sophie to the second floor and prepare one of the guest rooms for her.” Sophie’s eyes welled up. “Do you want me to live with the staff, Mrs. Blackwood?” “Staff?” My voice hardened. “It’s the twenty-first century, Sophie. We have an employment contract, not a feudal system. Mrs. Miller is a professional. And the guest rooms on the second floor are five-star quality.” Sophie shrunk back. “I’m sorry. I… I chose my words poorly.” Mrs. Miller, who had seen everything, gave a thin, knowing smile. “Follow me, Miss Mercer.” Nia watched Sophie leave, looking worried. “Mom, is she going to be okay? She gets scared easily.” My heart softened. “Nia, she’s a guest. You are the mistress of this house. No one will hurt her. But listen to me.” I put my hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You are Nia Blackwood. No matter what happens, you never have to give up what you love just to make someone else feel comfortable. Do you understand?” She stared at me for a long time, as if trying to decide if I was lying. Finally, she nodded.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “538185”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel
Leave a Reply