“Daisy, I’m so sorry that I can’t celebrate your birthday with you,” my only friend Amy told me over the phone. “I would definitely be there for you if I wasn’t sick…” “Amy. It’s fine. I already got the cake you ordered for me and it looks delicious,” I said, looking at the small yet beautifully decorated birthday cake in my hand. Amy was my best and only friend at school. I wanted to tell her that school days when she couldn’t attend were long and lonely. But I don’t want her to feel worse. “I didn’t have my first shift last night, so today can’t be my actual birthday. You still have your chance to make it up to me,” I said. Orphans like me don’t know when we were born or if we are Alphas or Betas until our first shift. Werewolves never shift until midnight on their eighteenth birthday. Today was September 5th, the birthdate on my adoption papers. It was assigned to me by officials when I was only a few months old. A shy, geeky werewolf like me couldn’t be an Alpha, but I didn’t care if I was a Beta or an Omega. I believe that everyone deserves a happy, productive life. Still, I couldn’t wait to shift. It would be awesome to know my actual birthday. And after I turned eighteen, my adoptive family would no longer control my life. I was working hard and saving my money for the day when I would be on my own and not need to depend on anyone. Especially people who didn’t want me. I walked in the back door of the house that never felt like my home and placed the cake on the kitchen table. Everything was quiet. Maybe my adoptive beta parents, Cecilia and Andrew Smith, and their real daughter, Andrea, had forgotten my birthday. Again. After they were told they couldn’t have a biological child, the Smiths adopted me and named me Daisy. I remember feeling happy and safe for a brief time. But when I was six years old, Cecilia gave birth to Andrea, and my life changed. From the moment Andrea was born, I was unwanted and ignored by the people I thought were my parents. It hurt the first few times I was called the adopted one, but I grew to not want them either. I gazed at my reflection in the hall mirror and hated what I saw. My frizzy hair and big glasses made me look like a bug-eyed freak, but at least the glasses helped hide my bushy eyebrows. And the baggy jeans and sweater I bought at the second-hand store hung on my thin body and made me look like a scarecrow. But the thing I hate the most about myself is the way I stutter when I’m nervous. When people hear me stutter, they assume I’m stupid or strange. And knowing it’s going to happen when I’m nervous, makes my stutter much worse. Everyone always called me the adopted one. They joked about how I would never be pretty or popular like Andrea. I guess they were right. “Daisy, is that you,” Cecilia’s voice called from the dining room. “Hurry into the dining room. We’re about to eat dinner.” I grabbed the birthday cake from the kitchen and followed Cecilia’s voice as she urged me to hurry and join the family. Maybe they didn’t forget my birthday like they did every other year since I was six. “Look, everyone,” I said as I entered the dining room. The startled look on their faces made me wish I’d left the cake in the kitchen. “Amy o…ordered me a buh … birthday cake.” The room went silent as Andrea rolled her eyes. They had forgotten again. They didn’t care about me at all. “I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cecilia apologized, but her eyes were cold. “I’ve had such a busy day that I forgot it was your birthday. I barely had time to grab a pizza for dinner. But we can go to a restaurant to eat if you like.” “No way,” Andrea said with a shake of her head. “I don’t feel like going anywhere, Mom. And you know I love pizza.” Her eyes dared me to argue. “And why does Daisy’s birthday matter? She doesn’t know when she was born.” “P … Pizza is fine, Cecilia,” I said as I placed the birthday cake in the center of the table. “We can sh … share the c … cake afterward.” I hated it when I stuttered. Why did I allow people, especially these people, to make me nervous? I help the family whenever I can, and I’ve never forgotten their birthdays. Cecilia gave me a tight smile. “Well then, Daisy, I promise we will take you somewhere to celebrate after your first shift, okay?” I nodded and sat down to eat pizza. The cake was the best part of the meal. I cleaned up the mess and did the dishes after we ate, and joined the family in the living room to watch the evening news. The top story was about the billionaire leader of the United Association of Alphas, Alex Wilson. Alex Wilson had been searching for his missing daughter for years. Alberta was lost to him after the Wilson family was involved in a horrific car accident. But Alex never gave up on finding his beloved daughter. The search for his heir intensified after his cancer diagnosis a few months ago. It was sad to think he could die without ever seeing Alberta again. The werewolf community was assisting their leader in finding the missing Alpha Princess. They all wanted her to be found so she could claim her inheritance and marry her chosen fiancé. Alberta’s husband would be the next leader of the United Association of Alphas. The camera cut away to another reporter interviewing one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. He was Victor Klein, another Alpha billionaire. After graduating from college, he became CEO of his family’s company and made it an even more successful business empire in just a few years. Alex Wilson and the alliance had chosen Victor to be Alberta’s husband and the next leader of the United Alliance of Alphas. The werewolf population needed the best leader. And he was indeed breathtaking. Victor spoke to the reporter about his recent trip to the hometown of Alex Wilson’s deceased wife. He accidentally found a rare childhood picture of hers. The camera shifted to a photo of Alberta’s mother, the one that everyone has seen in the news before. The Alpha female was beautiful, with long straight hair and delicate eyebrows. But the following image the newscaster showed was of Alberta’s mother as a child. She actually had naturally curly hair and bushy eyebrows as a kid! “If anyone knows the whereabouts of Alberta Wilson, call this number,” the reporter said. By now, Alberta would be almost eighteen and perhaps look similar to this photo.” I gasped as Cecilia, Andrew, and Andrea turned and stared at me. I was almost eighteen, and I did have curly hair and bushy brows. “The lost Alberta Wilson could be anywhere,” the newscaster said. “And she may not know who she is.”
I turned away from the TV to keep my foster family from noticing my interest in the news. I especially didn’t want Andrea to see me staring at the handsome Alpha male who was the missing girl’s fiancé. I could still hear the reporter’s words as he delivered the story. His voice seemed to echo through my mind. “So, I have a message for all you girls who will soon be eighteen,” the reporter said. “If you have thick eyebrows and naturally curly hair, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. You could be Alberta Wilson, the heiress of dying billionaire Alex Wilson.” “You should call the number, Daisy.” Cecilia tugged on a lock of my wild, unruly hair. “Maybe this is your real family.” Andrea let out a whoop of mocking laughter that made me cringe. “Daisy … a missing heiress!” Andrea laughed again. “Alex Wilson is the leader of The United Association of Alphas.” She rolled her eyes. “No way is Daisy an Alpha.” “Sweetheart, stop it.” Cecilia winked at her daughter. “There’s no way to know if Daisy has Alpha blood before her first shift on her eighteenth birthday.” I acted as if I didn’t see Cecilia’s wink or Andrea’s smirk. I was used to this kind of treatment from them. But it didn’t make it right or make it hurt any less. I shook my head at Cecilia. Andrea was right. I was no Alpha Princess. There are many girls my age with thick eyebrows and curly hair. Checking to see if I’m a missing heiress would be even more ridiculous than throwing away my money playing the lottery. I was working and saving my money. After college, I’ll get a good job and have my own home. It was the only way to be totally independent and never rely on others again. Besides, I didn’t want to be an Alpha. I’ve heard stories about how they stuck together to exploit Betas and Omegas while trying to satisfy their greed and lust for power and wealth. “No, thank you. That life is not for me,” I whispered to myself just before the phone rang. “It’s your geeky, little friend,” Andrea said and tossed the phone into my lap. I ignored the insult and put the phone to my ear. “Hello.” “Hey, Daisy,” Amy said. “Sorry again for your birthday…Dad wants to ask you something I think you’ll like.” “Daisy? It’s Alan Gray.” Mr. Gray was Amy’s father and my boss. I genuinely liked him because he was a kind man and sometimes treated me better than my own foster parents. “Hey, Mr. Gray, what’s going on?” I said. “Tomorrow is Saturday. I know you’re working the lunch and afternoon shifts, but I need somebody to work the dinner shift too. Leah needs the day off to attend her grandmother’s funeral.” “Extra hours would be great,” I replied. “I worry about you working too hard,” Mr. Gray sighed. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him, touched that he cared. “Then we’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and hung up. More work was exactly what I wanted. It was the only way to escape this life and build a better future for myself. I tossed and turned most of the night, unable to get the Alberta Wilson story or Victor Klein out of my mind. Both made me feel a strange pull in my soul. Warm sunshine woke me the following day. It had to be late morning. Panicked, I leaped from the bed and hurried to get ready for work. Then I rushed downstairs to the kitchen. “You should be on your way to work by now,” Cecilia said with her hands on her hips. “I … I know,” I replied. “I couldn’t get to sleep until almost dawn.” “You’ll have to eat while you walk to work.” She handed me two slices of toast that sat on the table. “Thanks.” I took the toast from Cecilia before rushing out the back door. I nibbled on the toast as I walked. It was cold and tasted strange, but I was hungry enough not to care. By the time I arrived at the restaurant, both pieces were gone. With the sun warming my skin and fresh air cooling my lungs, I couldn’t help stopping outside the restaurant’s front door. A few moments to enjoy the moment before going inside to begin work was irresistible. It would be dark by the time I came outside again. The sound of a crowd across the street caught my attention as I reached for the door handle. A deep, masculine voice could be heard above all the others. Scanning the crowd to see who he was, I gasped. The missing heiress’s fiancé was speaking to the large crowd! Victor Klein was pure Alpha as he captivated his audience with his charm. Everyone hung on his every word. I was fascinated about by him too. “This entire neighborhood will be improved at no cost to any of you,” he promised the cheering crowd. “And all expenses for the renovations will be paid for by me.” Wow. Maybe not every Alpha is a greedy jerk. Victor clearly wants to help the werewolf neighborhood and make their homes and businesses better. I envied the way Victor easily spoke in front of his audience. He was so masterful, so confident. And it was a pleasure to look at his handsome face, muscular body, and broad shoulders. He was masculine perfection. Watching how his sensual mouth moved as he spoke made me tingle in a way I didn’t understand. Mr. Gray appeared at the restaurant door. “I was getting worried about you, Daisy. You’re usually early for your shift.” “S … Sorry,” I stuttered like I always do when I’m nervous. “I … um … overslept.” I looked back at Victor. “Isn’t it wonderful what he’s doing for the local werewolves?” Mr. Gray frowned. “Victor Klein does nothing for others,” he said and motioned me inside. “But I … I heard him tell everyone he’s going to pay for improvements to this neighborhood.” “He didn’t tell the crowd that he owns every building on this street,” he said. “And I’ve been warned that I need to shut down the restaurant while the improvements are being made, and afterward, everyone’s rent will be doubled.” “Victor is going to make a fortune!” I exclaimed. I felt so stupid. Victor was exactly what I expected from a wealthy Alpha. Mr. Gray gave a huge sigh and put on his chef’s hat.“Time to get to work,” he said warmly. The restaurant soon filled with the lunch crowd. I hurried from table to table, giving the best service to my customers that I could. But I began to feel sick in my stomach, and it made it hard to concentrate on my work. Can toast go bad? As I was bussing a table, I saw a couple being seated at a booth in my area. Grabbing menus, I braced myself before approaching them. It would be hard to talk to them because the attractive couple looked like rich Alphas. They always made me more nervous. “Hi, I’m Daisy, and I’ll be your server today.” I managed to keep my voice from shaking, but my queasy stomach fluttered when I looked into the man’s eyes. It was Victor Klein. “Hello, Daisy,” Victor replied with a smile that took my breath away. I stuttered again while taking their drink order and stumbled away in a daze. I needed to calm down before I returned to his table. I mustered the courage to deliver their drinks. But I blushed at the sight of the female Alpha slipping off one high-heeled pump to caress Victor’s ankle with her toes. It seemed like such an intimate gesture. “The profit margin is fantastic,” Victor told the female Alpha. “The U.A.A. will be pleased.” He didn’t acknowledge the feminine toes rubbing his ankle, yet there was a hint of a smile on his sensual lips. Poor Alberta. If she’s found, she will be shackled to a greedy player. I quickly served Victor and his companion their drinks, took their food order, and moved on to check on another table. Keeping busy, I tried not to stare at the Alpha pair as they ate. I was growing more nauseated and wanted this long day to be over. It was a relief when Victor signaled me for his check. “Was everything okay?” I asked as I handed him his bill. “Yes, thank you.” Victor stood, pulled out his wallet, and placed enough cash to pay the bill, plus a two-hundred-dollar tip on my serving tray. “I … I’ll be right back with your change,” I stammered before heading for the cash register. Victor and the female Alpha were gone when I returned to their table. It felt wrong to keep all the money, but a sudden gurgle in my stomach made me rush to the hallway where the bathrooms were located. I forgot all about my stomach when I spotted a man in the hall coming my way. It was Victor. My mind spun. Should I thank him for the tip and offer him his change? Did I have the courage to talk to him? His sensual smile widened as he drew closer. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t utter a word. Instead, the contents of my stomach gushed from my throat.
Victor stared at his stained clothes, his face filled with shock and anger. I … I’m so … so suh … sorry,” I stuttered and rushed to the ladies’ room, where I vomited, over and over, into the toilet. After my stomach settled, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. I threw up on Victor Klein! I’d never been this embarrassed in my life. I let myself slide down the bathroom wall until I was seated on the floor. Then I pulled my knees to my face and cried. What I had done wasn’t good for the restaurant. What if Amy’s dad fired me? Where else could I get a job? I had to return to the dining room, find Victor, and apologize. Hopefully, Victor wouldn’t blame the restaurant for what I had done. After rising to my feet, I washed my face and hands before rinsing my mouth and checking my clothing and apron for vomit. They were okay. Most of my spew had hit Victor. Ugh! The situation was unbelievable. When I got up the courage to walk back into the dining room, I saw a young man I recognized from the TV as Victor’s assistant. He held a clean suit jacket as Victor buttoned a new dress shirt over his masculine torso. The beautiful woman who had been with Victor was gone. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose, Mr. Klein,” Mr. Gray told the wealthy Alpha. “I must be working her too hard. I do apologize for the mess.” I’m the one who should be apologizing, I told myself. Mr. Gray was helping me by giving me more hours, and I ruined the restaurant’s reputation by vomiting on an influential Alpha. As I forced myself closer to Victor, I could tell he was angry by his grim expression. He tossed his dirty clothes into a pile at his assistant’s feet and looked around the restaurant. I cringed when he spotted me walking his way. “You.” He pointed at me. “You ruined one of my best suits.” “I …I’m suh… sorry.” My face felt like it was on fire as I forced the words from my mouth. I looked at the floor and took a deep breath. “Let … let me clean it for you. I will s…send it to the d…dry-cleaning place.” Victor’s assistant snorted. “Do you expect Mr.Klein to wear this again?” the assistant snapped. He glared at Mr. Gray “Everyone should know what kind of riff-raff you employ as wait staff.” “Don’t be so harsh, Findlay,” Victor told his assistant. He turned to Mr. Gray. “We’ll forget this incident happened if you leave a…let’s see…three-thousand-dollar check at my company’s front desk within the week.” “Three … three thousand dollars?” I sputtered, hoping the assistant had been mistaken. “That’s correct,” Victor replied. “I already cut the price in half for you.” Was he trying to be nice? Should I be grateful for that? I stood open-mouthed, thinking of a way to get that much money together in a week. I couldn’t let Amy’s dad pay for my blunder. It wouldn’t be fair, and he and Amy were so good to me. I nodded at Victor, and he strode toward the door. “I’ll be checking the front desk for the money,” Findlay said as he followed Victor to the exit. Three thousand dollars seemed like nothing to werewolves like Victor. The wealthy assumed everyone had thousands of dollars lying around. Victor was the same as other rich Alphas. They’re all greedy and heartless. How could I have thought for a moment that he was any different? “You couldn’t help getting sick, Daisy,” Mr. Gray said. “I’ll pay for the suit. “No,” I insisted. Amy and her father worked hard every day in this restaurant to make a living. I couldn’t let them pay for my mistake. “I’ll find the money. And I’m sorry if I made you lose any customers.” Mr. Gray is a well-known chef. His upscale restaurant could be ruined if Victor chose to spread the story of what I had done. It would be a terrible way to repay Mr. Gray for his kindness to me by making him pay for my mistake in any way. “Victor cares about his public image too much to talk about what just happened,” Mr. Gray said, brushing aside my concerns. “Most people eating here tonight know nothing about what happened.” Victor didn’t need the money for that suit. He cared so much about his public image, but he didn’t care enough to think about if three thousand dollars already exceeded everything I had. Why do rich Alphas have to be such jerks? *** I went home early. My stomach had settled, but I felt terrible about what had happened. “Daisy, you’re home early,” Cecilia said. “I thought you’d be eating at the restaurant. We finished dinner a little while ago, but I didn’t save you anything.” “I’m not very hungry,” I said. “A little soup would be good, and then I want to go to bed.” Cecilia followed me to the kitchen. “You’re awfully down tonight,” she said. “Is something wrong?” I nodded. I was too upset to keep it inside. I had to talk about what happened with someone. Cecilia listened as I stammered every detail of my encounter with Victor. Her eyes showed anger, and her eyebrows raised almost to her hairline by the time I was finished. “There is no question that you need to pay for the suit,” she told me. “And how could you not tell the butter on the toast was bad?” “I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe it was the toast, or maybe I have a stomach virus. Amy stayed home from school today because she wasn’t feeling well.” I slid a bowl of soup into the microwave. “If you help me pay for the suit, I promise to pay you back.” “I’ll help you,” Cecilia said and sighed. “I don’t want your mess to reflect on this family.” “Thank you, Cecilia,” I said. “But I want you to change your mind about working a job like waitressing,” she added. “I know you’ve been saving money and I don’t know why. I barely even see you spend the money we gave you…. But if you really need a lot of money, you should probably pay more attention to your appearance. There are a lot of rich men out there looking for a young wife.” I couldn’t believe what Cecilia had suggested. Didn’t she know me at all? “I won’t marry someone for money,” I replied, my voice steady and determined. “I like waitressing, And I can take care of myself.” “Then take care of this problem yourself,” Cecilia snapped and began walking away. “I swear, you must get this stubborn streak from your birth parents.” After I ate the soup, I went to my room and counted the money I had saved in my secret hiding spot. There was a little over two thousand dollars. Where could I get a thousand dollars in less than a week? I needed to look for another job. I turned on my ancient laptop and searched for a job to make money quickly. I searched for twenty minutes, getting more depressed, when I found only a few jobs for a high school student, and none paid very much. I was about to give up when a giant ad caught my eye. Alex Wilson was offering one thousand dollars to qualified girls around eighteen with naturally curly hair！ All I had to do was call the number, arrange to give them some information, and let them take my DNA. There was no way I was Alberta Wilson, but it would be an easy way to get the rest of the money I needed to pay for Victor’s suit. I immediately dialed the number.
I wanted to do the test as soon as possible, but the earliest I could schedule an appointment was the following Saturday. I guess there were more girls taking the test than I thought. I arrived at the clinic on time. The number of other girls my age with curly hair waiting for their turn with the nurses was staggering. They were seated in every available chair, but most stood in long lines as they waited their turn to speak to ten different nurses. I never saw so many girls with curly hair all in one place. As soon as one of the girls finished speaking with one of the nurses, another girl took her place. Many left abruptly after answering the nurse’s questions, while others went through a different door and into another room. I overheard chatter from two curly-haired girls around me. They claimed the girls who left had been rejected when the nurses felt they couldn’t be Alberta Wilson. The others were considered possible matches and continued on to the DNA testing—the girls who were chosen to take a DNA test left with their thousand dollars. I needed to be one of them. But it was disheartening every time a girl was rejected and left the clinic empty-handed. They all looked much more like an Alpha than me. If I was rejected before giving my DNA sample, where would I get the money to pay for Victor’s suit? Finally, it was my turn. The middle-aged receptionist immediately asked for my adoption certificate. She examined it and me closely. The way the woman stared at me made me feel like I was doing something wrong. “Is your hair naturally curly, or is it permed?” she asked as she touched my hair. “You realize this is serious business, yet many of you girls are here to get some of Mr. Wilson’s money.” “I’ve nuh … never need … needed a perm,” I stammered. “My hair is nuh … naturally curly.” The nurse was making me so nervous I could barely breathe. The room seemed airless as she studied me. Could she tell I was there for the money, too? Then I had an idea and took out my phone. “Lah … look, here’s a puh… picture of my suh … school ID from three years ago.” The photo showed me at the beginning of my freshman year. My hair was just as curly as it is now. The woman took my phone from my hand and compared it to a photo I saw on television. It was the photo of Alberta’s mother when she was young. After a minute, she handed my phone back to me. “Okay, Daisy, I’ll need some more information.” The nurse took out a form and wrote my name on the top line. Not wanting any trouble from Cecilia, I gave her Amy’s address for the second line. After asking me more questions, some that I couldn’t answer, the nurse handed me the form and told me to walk through the doorway on the left side of the large room. It was where other girls had gone for testing and their thousand dollars! I walked to the other room, not looking at anyone, and with my fingers crossed. This room was less crowded. I took a deep breath and walked up to another nurse who was sitting behind a desk. This nurse asked me more questions about my health and family. Again, I was examined and asked if my hair was naturally curly or permed. After the other nurse completed my registration, I agreed to have my cheek swabbed and a tube of blood drawn. I didn’t like having a needle stuck in my arm, but I was happy to have gotten this far in the process. There were dozens of racks of samples covering a table. Alberta had to be among the girls who came for testing today. Surely the lost Alpha Princess would be found. That thought made me feel less guilty about what I was doing to get the money to pay for Victor’s suit. After the DNA samples were taken, I was told I must have photos taken to be compared with old pictures of Alberta’s mother. There were five photographers and their equipment set up at the other end of the room. Nearby, a middle-aged man in a suit, tie, and mustache sat quietly, watching everything around him. He reminded me of one of those proper, stuffy butlers in a TV series. The man also looked very tired. This part of the search for Alberta had to be tedious when this many girls showed up to be tested. He didn’t seem to see me at all, even though he looked my way several times. Sitting before the bright lights and the camera, I squirmed and wished this would be over. All this attention directed at me was making me shake inside and out. I couldn’t wait to leave and take the money to Victor’s office. When the first photo was taken, I cringed and closed my eyes as the bright flash went off with a pop. I couldn’t keep from closing my eyes on the second try, either. I always hated getting my photo taken. Why would anyone want to preserve an image of me? The photographer tried to be patient, but I couldn’t help it. I felt as if everyone in that big room could read my thoughts and knew I wasn’t Alberta. They probably suspected I was just another greedy girl wanting the money. “Let’s try a photo without your glasses,” the photographer said. “I can’t see your eyes very well when the flash goes off. The lenses reflect the light.” I took my glasses off and felt much more at ease because I couldn’t see all the people around me as clearly. I relaxed a little and told myself they weren’t staring at me anymore. But I could see well enough to know when the butler suddenly raised his head and stood. The photographer seemed as startled as me. Was the butler staring at us? Why? The butler quickly regained his composure and apologized before sitting down again. Who was he, and what part was he playing in the search for Alberta? I kept my eyes open as the photographer took two photos of me without my glasses before handing me another paper. He then told me to go to another woman sitting at a desk near an armed guard. This woman was young and pretty. She examined the paper from the photographer and asked me to sign the bottom on the solid line. Relief flowed through me when I read the paper before I signed my name. I agreed that the thousand dollars would be delivered to the address I’d given them within forty-eight hours. I would receive the thousand-dollar payment and be able to pay Victor. With all the girls here, I was lucky to get it in writing before they found Alberta. But as I began to walk toward the door to the outside, I heard a man’s voice. I turned back and saw it was the butler. He was speaking to the photographer who had just taken my photos. “They look too similar,” the butler said. “That girl must be her.” Who was he talking about? Had they really found Alberta? I’d better leave before they wanted their money back.
Early the next morning, I woke up and wished I could stay in bed all day. I hadn’t slept well, and I looked more of a mess than usual. But it suited my mood. I was about to wash up and go downstairs to eat breakfast when someone rang the doorbell. After pulling on my old sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, I ran to the front door. It was still early, and the house was quiet. Cecilia, Andrew, and Andrea must still be sleeping. I looked through the peephole and saw Amy impatiently shifting her weight from foot to foot. What had her so excited already this morning? I opened the door and motioned her inside. “You’re up early,” I said as I led her to the kitchen. “Want some juice?” Amy shook her head. “Did you do the genetic test for Alex Wilson and give them the referral information?” “Yeah, why?” I replied while pouring myself a glass of orange juice. Amy held up an envelope addressed to me. The return address was Alex Wilson’s corporation. “Oh, yeah. I used your address. Cecilia was on my case about marrying a rich Alpha who could take care of me. I didn’t want her to get any ideas about me being a billionaire’s heiress.” “Yeah, what a horrible fate,” Amy teased. She crossed her eyes and giggled. “I don’t want to marry any man I don’t love. And I’m far from ready to get married.” I stuck out my tongue at her and changed the subject. “Wow. I can’t believe the money arrived so quickly.” I took the envelope and began to slit its end with a letter opener. “It’s weird. The envelope didn’t arrive in our mailbox,” Amy said. “A very distinguished-looking man delivered it to my house. He wasn’t a regular delivery man or anything. He was wearing a suit and tie.” “Unbelievable! You got tested to see if you are Alex Wilson’s lost Alpha Princess,” Andrea said with a laugh as she popped into the kitchen. “You’re delusional, Daisy. What makes you think a geeky nobody like you could be Alberta Wilson?” “I duh … don’t think I’m Alberta Wilson,” I told Andrea, inwardly cursing my inability to speak without stuttering when Andrea was around. Why was Andrea always sneaking around, listening to my conversations? “Wuh … why are you always so nasty to me?” “Buh … because you’re such a dweeb,” Andrea replied, mocking my stutter. “I can’t freaking believe you think you’re an Alpha. It’s too funny.” I felt my anger rising, but I tried to concentrate on staying calm and speaking clearly. “I wuh … wouldn’t want to be a spoiled, rich, Alpha girl. I’m happy being me.” Andrea couldn’t understand that I didn’t need to be rich or powerful to be happy. I have a few people who care about me, and I am willing to work for what I want. “You’re lying. You were hoping you were born a rich Alpha.” Andrea rolled her eyes. “Why else would you get tested?” “I needed the thousand dollars Alex Wilson is giving all girls who got their DNA tested to see if he’s their father,” I admitted. Hearing myself say it out loud made me feel worse than I had yesterday. “Using people isn’t something I would normally do,” I explained. “But it was either take the test and get paid a thousand dollars, even though I knew I was not the missing heiress, or I had to allow Amy’s father to pay for an expensive suit I ruined.” I handed Amy the envelope. “Give it to your dad and the other money I have in my room. He can make sure you know who gets the money.” I couldn’t bring myself to mention Victor’s name before Andrea. Amy shook her head. “I can’t take your money, and my father won’t either. You worked hard for every dime you have, and you never spend any of it. You’re going to take this check and cash it. Put it into a savings account for college.” Amy pulled the check out of the envelope and froze. “How much was Alex Wilson paying girls for a sample of their DNA?” she asked. “I thought you said a thousand dollars.” I nodded. “Yes, they were advertising that they would give a thousand dollars to any selected girl who took the test.” “But this check isn’t for a thousand dollars,” Amy said. She pulled the check away from Andrea, who was trying to grab it from her hand. “Oh, no,” I groaned. “I n … need a thousand dollars more to pay for that suit.” “You’ll be able to pay for that suit,” Amy said. I could tell she was trying not to grin. “You can buy any suit you want. Look.” Amy held the check in front of my eyes. It was made out to me for one hundred thousand dollars.” I let out a squeal. “It’s a mistake. I need to return it and get one for the right amount.” “Boy, you are dumb,” Andrea said. “You should keep your mouth shut and give that check to my parents. They’ve raised you all these years. You owe them.” “That would be stealing. It’s not my money,” I told her and examined the check closer. There was a phone number under Alex Wilson’s address. “I’m calling Mr. Wilson to tell him about the mistake.” But the doorbell rang once again before I could dial the phone number. “Maybe they dis … discovered the mistake and tracked me down to get their check back,” I said and ran to see who was at the door. I opened the door, ready to hand over the too-large check. But when I saw who was at the door, I couldn’t move or speak. It was Victor. He stepped into the house wearing a formal suit with a large bouquet of bright red roses in one of his hands. He was more handsome than ever, and he smelled like an expensive cologne. Behind him, his assistant was carrying more than a dozen expensive gift boxes with various designer brand names on them. What was going on? Victor glanced at me and my messier-than-usual morning look, and his face froze. But after a moment, he flashed a super charming smile as he walked forward into the house. He looked over the three of us. “Which one of you is Daisy?” he asked politely. I came back to my senses and replied stiffly, “I’m Daisy.” Why was he here? I bit my lip and tried to keep my face away from Victor. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me from the restaurant. But Victor looked me over from my frizzy hair, held back from my face with an elastic band, to my baggy sweatpants with holes in the knees. His expression showed that he didn’t find me attractive, but he didn’t seem to remember me either. “So … you’re Mr. Wilson’s lost child.” He seemed earnest, but this had to be a joke. “I brought a few things, gifts that are rightfully yours.” “No … Wait … what?” I stammered. “What … what do you mean?” My mind spun. Was Victor saying what I thought he was saying? “I’m your fiancé, Alberta,” Victor said with an attractive smile.
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