I was the real daughter of the Miller family, swapped at birth. The first thing I did when I returned to the Millers was to give my biological parents two choices. “Give me two hundred thousand, and I’ll cut ties with you. I leave. Or, Isabella leaves within twenty-four hours, and I stay.” My biological parents found me while I was working odd jobs at my foster parents’ diner. Someone bumped into my shoulder on the way to serving a customer soup, and the hot liquid splashed all over my leg. The porcelain bowl shattered on the floor with a loud crash. My foster mother, Brenda, who was binge-watching a show on her phone and munching on chips at the counter, heard the commotion. She rushed over and slapped me across the face. “I must’ve committed some sin in my past life to have a jinx like you!” she spat. My face and leg stung. Just as she muttered curses and raised her hand for a second slap, an enraged voice stopped her cold: “Stop! Who gave you permission to lay a hand on my daughter!”
After the doctor treated my burns, Victoria, my biological mother, clutched my hand tightly. She had been crying since she first hugged me on the way to the hospital. Richard, my biological father, stood by, constantly comforting her, his eyes filled with guilt as he looked at me, occasionally handing his wife a fresh tissue. Victoria sniffled, “It’s all… it’s all our fault. If only we had arrived a little sooner, you wouldn’t have been hurt.” Victoria’s hand felt warm, making my palm sweat. Just like her embrace, it was intensely warm. And she smelled really nice. Maybe it was her overwhelming perfume, but the burning sensation on my leg seemed to fade significantly on the way over. I turned my face away from her, pulling my hand free without hesitation. “You can both leave. I’m a little tired.” “Hazel…” Victoria tried to say something more, but Richard stopped her, leading her out of the room. I watched them walk out of the hospital room, my gaze fixed on Victoria’s tightly clenched hand. In it, she held a strand of my hair, which she’d subtly plucked when she hugged me. My scalp had stung when she pulled it, but I had to pretend not to notice a thing. She was trying to be clever, but it wasn’t exactly rocket science.
Half a month passed, and Richard and Victoria came together to pick me up and take me back to the Miller family home. During those two weeks, they had been incredibly diligent in their visits. Victoria, especially, acted as if she wanted to move into the hospital with me. Victoria constantly introduced me to the Miller family members, telling me I had two older brothers and an older sister. An older sister? Before they even found me, I already had the Millers all figured out. After all, I was the one who had that paternity test delivered to their doorstep. The Millers only had one daughter. The so-called sister was Isabella, the girl they had raised for seventeen years. Isabella, huh. What a precious name. A smile involuntarily curved on my lips. Victoria thought I was happy to hear about them and went on to talk about the three siblings. It was always her talking, and me staying silent. She asked about my life for the past seventeen years, and I remained silent. But when she mentioned how excited my two brothers were to meet me and how well they would treat me, I finally spoke. My eyes lit up as I looked at her, asking with a mix of anticipation and caution, “R-really?” Liam Hayes had never been stingy with his praise for my acting skills. Watching Victoria’s delighted expression, I wholeheartedly agreed. She smiled, and I mirrored her, my fingertips unconsciously tracing the blanket covering me. If they truly welcomed me, why hadn’t they bothered to show their faces even once in two weeks?
The car pulled up to the villa, which was shrouded in darkness. Richard and Victoria led me inside. The lock clicked, the lights flickered on, and party poppers went off. Inside, a girl in a pink dress, holding a cake with a radiant smile, cheerfully announced, “Welcome home, Hazel!” She was flanked by two guys. The one on her left had a gentle smile as he looked at me, saying, “Welcome, little sister.” The one on her right looked completely bored. As if sensing it, Isabella subtly tugged at Blake’s sleeve. Blake’s voice was ice-cold. “Welcome.” Richard’s face instantly darkened, and he bit out, barely suppressing his rage, “Blake!” Victoria quickly stepped in to play peacemaker, linking her arm through mine. “Hazel, Isabella knew you were coming home today. She organized this welcome party especially for you.” I offered a faint smile, letting Victoria guide me towards Isabella. I mumbled a “thank you,” but my hand had a mind of its own. In one swift motion, I *accidentally* flipped the cake, sending a tidal wave of frosting splattering all over Isabella’s pristine new dress. The entire Miller family’s expressions soured. Blake, quick as a flash, pulled Isabella behind him, glaring at me with malice. “What the hell are you doing?!” he roared. Isabella cowered behind him, her beautiful eyes, wide and innocent, filling with tears. Honestly, her looks definitely took after my foster mother, Brenda. Their eyes were strikingly similar – those innocent, tear-filled eyes, designed to make anyone pity her. And her acting? Not bad at all. I met Blake’s gaze, a taunting smirk on my face. “She stole seventeen years of my life. Isn’t it perfectly natural for me to hate her?” Victoria seemed surprised by my attitude. In the hospital, I’d always smiled sweetly whenever Isabella was mentioned. “What does this have to do with Isabella? She didn’t intentionally get swapped! She’s innocent! Why do you hate her so much?!” Blake yelled. I shot back, “Her innocence has nothing to do with me.” “Besides, who said I hate *her*?” I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “The one who messed up the baby tags, causing the mix-up all those years ago… wasn’t that you?” Blake stumbled backward in shock, dragging Isabella with him. They both lost their footing and tumbled to the ground in a heap. I burst out laughing, completely unmasked. When I accidentally watched a show once, I utterly despised the older brother character. Now that it was happening to me, this brother was even more insufferable. **截断点**
“Isabella…” Victoria immediately released my hand and rushed to help her up, frantically checking her for injuries. Isabella’s chin had hit Blake, and it was bright red. Leaning on Victoria, she whined pitifully, “Mom, it hurts… I think my mouth is bleeding.” Blake scrambled to his feet and immediately apologized to his sister. Daniel, who hadn’t spoken until now, looked at me, a frown creasing his brow. “You went too far.” The Miller family was in chaos, and I watched the scene unfold. Victoria anxiously told Isabella to open her mouth so she could check. Blake was fumbling around, apologizing profusely. Daniel had run off to another room, phone to his ear, calling for a doctor. A strange discomfort stirred within me. Maybe it was Victoria’s excessive care for me in the hospital, and I was somehow swayed by it. Kindness can be a powerful, insidious weapon. It cuts deep. The ancients were truly wise. Richard suddenly spoke, “Hazel, I know you’ve suffered. But Blake’s right, Isabella is innocent. You can’t let your resentment…” I knew Richard had been investigating my past life while I was hospitalized, and I had shown him exactly what I wanted him to see. The Dawsons, my foster family, were incredibly old-fashioned, always favoring boys. My life had been tough from a young age. My foster father, Frank, was an alcoholic and abusive, and my foster mother, Brenda, had been cruel to me since I was a child. I was constantly mocked and ostracized at school. Richard had uncovered all of this, and he had kept it from Victoria. I cut him off before he could finish, formally calling him, “Mr. Miller.” “Give me two hundred thousand, and I’ll cut ties with you. I leave. Or, Isabella leaves within twenty-four hours, and I stay.” Victoria stopped her movements, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked at me. She quickly said, “How can you say that?! Hazel, you and Isabella are both my daughters!” I ignored her, continuing my negotiation with Richard. “I’m still underage, so you have a responsibility to support me. You never raised me for the past seventeen years. Two hundred thousand for a clean break is pocket change for the Millers. It’s a very good deal for you.” After all, Isabella’s monthly allowance was more than two hundred thousand. Richard’s gaze was fixed on me, and he asked seriously, “In your eyes, is this just a transaction between us? Do you think we’ll always favor Isabella?” I shrugged. Some people always think they’re the epitome of fairness. 5 (Continued) I walked out of the Miller’s villa. Richard and Victoria didn’t want me to leave, but I stated clearly: if Isabella was in, I was out. Blake wanted to explode, but he crumbled the moment his eyes met mine, a flicker of guilt crossing his eyes. I gave Richard the address of my small apartment, telling him to let me know his decision. Seeing my insistence, Richard told Daniel to make sure I got home safely. Daniel agreed, but by the time he opened the car door, I had already walked far away. He quickly chased after me, but I shook him off in no time. After all, I’d walked alone at night plenty of times. A girl always had to be careful, especially then. I was pretty good at losing people. Of course, except for Liam. But he used to say I was brilliant, that my safety awareness was too good, making me hard to catch. The night wind was cool as I walked along, guided by the streetlights. Thinking of Isabella’s smile, I impulsively plucked a flower from a roadside planter. I tore at it as I walked, grinding the petals between my fingers until the sap stained my hands and it was nothing but a mangled mess. I hated Isabella. When she smiled, it was like something out of a fairy tale: sunshine, sweet candy, a beacon of light. She wore pristine dresses, vibrant and lively, and would sweetly flirt with her brothers, father, and mother. Every beautiful word in the world could describe her. I was different. I was rotten to the core, my very bones steeped in bitterness. The perfect villainess from a story — that was me. The moment I saw her eyes, I thought of my foster mother, Brenda Dawson. I thought of her smiling as she snatched my favorite doll and threw it into the furnace, holding me back so I couldn’t save it. I thought of her pushing me into the living room after my foster father got drunk, hiding in her room, listening to my cries as he beat me, punch after punch. I thought of her grabbing my backpack, searching for the scholarship money I’d just received from school, and then stepping on my textbooks on her way out. I thought of her slapping me across the face when she saw the medicine I bought for my foster sister, telling me I was wasting money. I thought of her casually saying, “If she dies, she dies…” They say love extends to everything associated with it, but so does hatred. It can implicate others.
“What’s my little witch thinking about? You don’t look too happy.” A teasing voice broke through my thoughts. As I stepped out of the villa complex, I saw someone leaning against a small scooter parked nearby, their eyes fixed on me. I hurried over, taking in the scooter’s pink finish, adorned with several Doraemon stickers. “Manly pink?” I chuckled, looking at Liam Hayes, then feigned a look of grave disappointment. “The great Young Master Hayes, riding a scooter? That’s really falling from grace!” Liam gave me a gentle flick on the forehead, stopping my dramatic act. I glared at him, annoyed, grinding my teeth. “Ow! That hurt, you jerk!” Liam rubbed my forehead, which actually didn’t hurt anymore, and chuckled. “A jerk’s girlfriend is just as much of a jerk, right?” “Who’s your girlfriend?” I glared at him! “Your future is already sealed with me. You think you can run off with some other guy?” He smiled, spreading his hands helplessly, two shallow dimples appearing on his cheeks. I rolled my eyes dramatically. If looks could kill, Liam would have been six feet under eight hundred times since I met him. But now… I thought about it. I wouldn’t want to. Liam noticed my hands stained with flower sap. He pulled out a pack of wet wipes from his pocket and meticulously cleaned them. Then, he gently put a helmet on my head. It was black, with ‘Cool’ sprayed in white paint on the top, looking absolutely awesome. When my foster brother used to watch TV as a kid, I’d sometimes catch glimpses. That kid, Noby, had a robot cat by his side. Doraemon’s magic pocket could always pull out amazing gadgets to help Noby. I looked up Liam’s jawline. His eyes were serious. Liam didn’t have Doraemon’s magic. He couldn’t conjure up amazing gadgets or change the things I had hated and tried to escape for years. But when did Liam become *my* Doraemon?
His pink helmet had two fluffy ears, and I couldn’t resist reaching up on my tiptoes to pinch them. We were suddenly very close. Then, I heard an angry shout from behind us, “What are you doing?!” I turned around to see Daniel, who had rushed out, looking furious, like he’d caught us doing something scandalous. Oops. Our little flirtation had taken a bit too long. Daniel’s eyes were wide and bulging, just like my hateful foster father when he was angry. I patted Liam’s shoulder, ignoring Daniel. “Let’s go.” Liam smoothly hopped onto the scooter, and I quickly followed. Daniel yelled at Liam, “Young Master Hayes! My sister is still young! Isn’t it inappropriate to lead her into an early relationship and have her stay out late at night?!” It wasn’t surprising that Liam and Daniel, both from wealthy families, knew each other. But I thought about Daniel saying “late night” and checked my phone. 8:30 PM. For a night owl like me, the night was just beginning. Had the young master of a rich family started living such a healthy lifestyle so early? It didn’t seem to be working, though. I glanced at Daniel’s hair. Even with his bangs covering his hairline, I could see a hint of the edge. Hmm… a little bald. Liam turned his head to look at him, raising an eyebrow coolly. “Sister? Not necessarily! When did Young Master Daniel’s brain go bad enough for him to claim sisters and meddle in my Hazel’s business?” He paused, seemed to assess Daniel for a moment, then nodded seriously. “Our Hayes family’s private hospital has pretty good neurologists. I can introduce you to one if you like. Oh, and our doctors are also excellent at hair transplants.” Liam must be a mind-reader. He knew exactly what I was thinking. I clung to Liam’s shirt, not even trying to stifle my laughter. His words were sharp, and I’d experienced them many times before. Daniel’s expression looked like he was ready to eat someone, and he was about to rush forward to pull me off the scooter. Liam twisted the throttle, and the scooter whirred, speeding away at 25 mph, leaving Daniel far behind. From where I was, the distance wasn’t *that* far, but Daniel wouldn’t be able to catch up on foot. All the way, Liam hummed a happy tune. I listened to his off-key singing, “Riding my beloved little donkey, I’ll never be stuck in traffic…” Liam’s speaking voice was pleasant, but his singing was dreadful, always tormenting my ears. Using his body to shield myself from the wind, I said, “Liam, you won’t go bald that fast too, will you?” A bald boyfriend… I imagined Liam’s handsome face with a receding hairline, and I shivered involuntarily. “Maybe we should just break up while we’re ahead!” “No way!” Liam’s gritted voice pierced through the wind. “No one in the Hayes family has that balding gene.” He said that, but later, when we officially started dating, I noticed his shampoo bottles – every single one was for hair growth and strengthening. The next afternoon, Richard appeared outside my small apartment door. The apartment was tiny; Richard struggled to find a place to stand when he entered. At that moment, I had just finished bathing Buddy.
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