I couldn’t sleep from excitement when I found out I was adopted. My adoptive mother, Mrs. Johnson, looked at my dark circles with disdain as she hugged the newly found biological daughter, Chloe, in her arms. “I know all the tricks you adopted kids play – sabotage, playing the victim, using the benefits and education we’ve invested in you to suppress my real daughter. Let me tell you, I’m not that brainless. None of those tricks will work.” I didn’t argue with her. I quickly packed my bags to find my birth parents. A year later, they came looking for me again, begging me to come back home with them. The year I turned seventeen, my adoptive father, Mr. Johnson, brought a skinny girl to us and told my adoptive mother, “This is our biological daughter. There was a mix-up at the hospital when she was born.” The girl, Chloe, looked malnourished with her sallow complexion and short stature. She timidly hid behind Mr. Johnson, cautiously observing everyone in the family. Mr. Johnson placed the DNA test results in front of us. “Chloe has been living in an orphanage for the past seventeen years, enduring all kinds of bullying.” Mrs. Johnson’s hands trembled as she held the test results. She then rushed to embrace Chloe. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It’s all our fault. You’ve suffered so much all these years.” I stood there, stunned by the scene unfolding before me. The people who had always criticized me in the name of love, who had made me feel worthless, who had told me to die if I couldn’t bring home another trophy from the next competition – they weren’t my real parents? As I watched them hugging, confessing, and crying, I felt an unexpected sense of relief wash over me. Just then, my adoptive brother Jack rushed back from the office. “Sister,” he called out. I turned to look at him, but he pushed me aside and walked straight to Chloe, patting her head. “My dear sister, you’ve suffered so much all these years.” I fell backward, my forehead hitting the corner of the table and starting to bleed. Damn, the whole family was full of drama queens. They huddled together, chatting for a long time before finally remembering my existence. “Lily,” they called. “I’m here,” I replied, covering my bleeding forehead with my hand. I ran to Mr. Johnson, forcing myself to smile. “I’m happy that my sister has come home too.” In truth, I wasn’t happy at all. But my adoptive father had taught me from a young age that a lady from a wealthy family must always maintain her composure. If he ever caught me showing any negative emotions, I would face severe punishment. Mr. Johnson didn’t show any particular expression. He simply ordered, “Give your room to Chloe.” I maintained that stiff smile and politely asked, “Then where should I…?” Jack glanced at me impatiently. “Isn’t there an empty room next to the housekeeper’s? You can move there.” I nodded in agreement, smiling. That night, I couldn’t sleep because I was too excited. According to the usual plot, shouldn’t they be kicking me out now? I still had over a hundred thousand dollars in my account, all earned from various competitions. Finding my birth parents shouldn’t be a problem. The next day, when I appeared with dark circles under my eyes, Jack rolled his eyes and laughed. “This trick is so old-fashioned, it’s laughable.” Speechless. What a thick-headed guy. Mrs. Johnson looked at my dark circles with disdain as she hugged the newly found biological daughter, Chloe, in her arms. “I know all the tricks you adopted kids play – sabotage, playing the victim, using the benefits and education we’ve invested in you to suppress my real daughter. Let me tell you, I’m not that brainless. None of those tricks will work.” I took out the suitcase I had packed the night before. “I won’t bother you anymore. I’m going to find my birth parents.” Before they could react, I dashed out, hoping they wouldn’t try to stop me. When I found my birth mother, she was watering flowers in the yard. She looked older than my adoptive mother, with streaks of gray in her hair. I stood at the gate, the word “Mom” that I had rehearsed in my mind for so long stuck in my throat. As if sensing my presence, she looked up at me. In that instant, I forgot how to breathe. I saw tears rolling down her cheeks as she ran towards me, her arms wrapping around me like vices, afraid I might disappear again. “Lily, is it really you?” she asked, her voice trembling. Lily? That must be my real name. Her tears fell on my neck, cool and wet. I hugged her back. “Mom, it’s me.” Mom pulled me into the house. She didn’t ask how I found her or how I had been living all these years. She just kept staring at my face, as if trying to etch every detail into her memory. She smiled, but tears kept flowing from her eyes, impossible to wipe away. “You must be hungry. Sit down for a bit, I’ll make you something to eat,” she said. I sat quietly, looking around. The living room was small and shabby. The walls were bare except for a single photo of a newborn baby hanging in the center. The person who helped me find my birth parents had told me that my birth parents were originally quite well-off. But after losing their child, they quit their jobs to search for me full-time, using up all their savings and even selling their house. I asked, “Is that my photo?” Mom paused while cutting vegetables. “Yes, it was taken right after you were born.” Then her voice noticeably dropped. “We only have that one photo from over ten years ago. It was all our fault for being careless. We’re so sorry.” I walked over and hugged her shoulders, comforting her softly. “It’s okay. We still have many, many years ahead of us. We can make up for lost time.” “By the way, I didn’t say anything earlier. How did you know I was your daughter?” Mom smiled and lovingly patted my head, simply saying, “A mother’s intuition.” Mom called my dad, who rushed back covered in sweat, his clothes dirty and torn, with injuries on his face. When Dad saw me, he was so excited he didn’t know what to do. He spread his arms wanting to hug me but didn’t dare come closer. I went forward and hugged his waist. “Dad.” His voice choked up. “Don’t hug me, don’t hug me. I’m dirty.” Mom had finished cooking and urged him, “Hurry up and wash your hands for dinner. Look at you, all disheveled. What happened?” Dad scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. “I was so excited, I wasn’t paying attention and tripped over some rebar at the construction site.” I bit my lip, trying to contain my emotions. What a normal, loving family! As Dad took off his dirty, torn jacket, a piece of paper slipped out of his pocket. I picked it up and saw it was a lottery ticket. Dad said, “Yesterday, I passed by the lottery store and a coworker insisted I buy a ticket. It’s all a scam, how could anyone win so easily?” The ticket hadn’t been scratched yet, but it was already crumpled. I thought, since he bought it anyway, might as well scratch it and see. So I leaned over the table and used my fingernail to scrape off the coating line by line. When the numbers were fully revealed, I froze. After seeing the numbers clearly, I almost dropped my water glass. The ticket had won. And it was the first prize – five million dollars. That night, I was too excited to sleep again. The doorbell rang while Mom was busy in the kitchen. She said that today was the anniversary of finding me a year ago, so we should celebrate every year on this day. I wanted to go help her in the kitchen, but Mom wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed me out. “You’re always so tired from studying. Go rest. If you’re hungry, eat some of the snacks on the table. We’ll have dinner when your dad gets home.” The table was loaded with my favorite dried fruits and pastries. I stuffed my mouth full and asked with a muffled voice, “Why is Dad coming home so late today?” Mom chuckled, “He insists on preparing a special gift for you. He’s being all mysterious about it.” Just as Mom finished speaking, there was a knock at the door. “Dad’s home!” I cheered and ran to open the door, but I froze when I saw who it was. A elegantly dressed woman pulled me into her arms and started crying. “Darling, I’ve finally found you. Come home with us.” My adoptive mother had found me! My adoptive father standing next to her wiped a tear from his eye and handed me a box of cake. “This past year, your mother and I couldn’t eat or sleep well, always thinking of you. We’ve opened another bakery for you. Come back with us, the shop is yours.” My heart sank. Although a year had passed, seeing them again still filled me with fear. I handed the cake back to my adoptive father and glanced back at my mom who was making my favorite cola chicken wings in the kitchen. “My name is Lily now, so don’t use the wrong name.” My adoptive parents were stunned for a moment. I took a step back to keep my distance from them. I remembered how much I loved sweets as a child. When I got first place in a school exam, my adoptive parents opened a bakery as a reward. But later, when I failed in a competition, they angrily destroyed the bakery. This family with such unstable emotions. I smiled slightly. “I don’t like eating these anymore. Besides, my mom made my favorite dishes, and I want to save room to eat more.” My adoptive father’s eyes reddened. He suddenly gripped my shoulders. “After you left, I realized you were the most obedient and sensible child in the family. Chloe is petty and not very bright. She struggles to learn anything. You’re more like our child than Chloe is.” “You’re our only precious daughter. No one can change your position in our hearts.” Still so self-serving! I replied, “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, you’ve got it wrong. Chloe is your biological daughter.” My adoptive father froze, his lips trembling. “What did you call me?” My adoptive mother’s face was covered in tears. She stepped forward to hug me, but I dodged her. “Mrs. Johnson, if you have something to say, please say it quickly. My mom is waiting for me to have dinner.” My adoptive mother grabbed me, refusing to let go. “We’ve really reflected on ourselves this past year. Come home with Mom and Dad, okay?” “Also, let’s go take a family photo now, just the four of us.” I shook my head and forcefully pulled away from my adoptive mother’s grasp. Originally, our family used to take a family photo every year, but on the day Chloe returned, she smashed all the family photos. My adoptive parents didn’t blame her. Instead, they took her to take new family photos – without me. I stepped aside, revealing a huge family photo of me with my birth parents hanging on the wall. “Mrs. Johnson, there’s no need. I already have one.” My adoptive mother could no longer hold back her tears and buried her face in my adoptive father’s chest. My adoptive father still refused to give up on me and continued to persuade, “You weren’t with them since you were little. How well do they know you? They didn’t watch you grow up, so they can’t possibly love you as much as we do.” I was about to retort when my mom, having finished cooking, called out to me: “Lily, who are you talking to? Don’t stand at the door, come in and sit down.” I was about to send them away when my mom walked over. To my surprise, she warmly invited them in: “The food is ready. Come in and have a bite.” And so, the three of us awkwardly sat at the dining table. My mom hospitably served them: “These are all my daughter’s favorite dishes. See if they suit your taste.” My adoptive mother didn’t answer. She just kept staring at the photo of me as a child on the wall. After moving to our new home, my mom had hung up that photo again. At the time, I told her that having one family photo was enough, but my mom absolutely refused to take it down. My mom followed her gaze and gave a warm smile. “That’s my daughter when she was little. Isn’t she adorable?” “My daughter is so considerate now. Whenever she’s home, she always insists on helping me with housework. She’s doing well in her studies too. Her teachers all praise her.” When did I ever insist on helping with housework? Every time I tried to help, she always found a reason to send me away. My grades were just average. Last year at the parent-teacher conference, the teacher only praised me once for making progress, but my mom took it to heart and couldn’t stop bragging about it to others. I understood. Mom loved me, so in her eyes, I was perfect no matter what. I remembered more than a year ago, when I was still in that prestigious school. As my birthday approached, my adoptive parents asked what gift I wanted. “A Cartier bracelet,” I had answered excitedly. But on my birthday, I messed up a project. My adoptive father angrily took out the bracelet and smashed it on the ground, shattering it instantly. My adoptive father grabbed my collar and shouted, “You can’t even handle such a simple task, and you still want to celebrate your birthday? No dinner tonight. Go and reflect on your mistakes.” I was so scared that I burst into tears. My adoptive mother stood by, watching coldly, and disappointedly muttered, “So weak. You’re not worthy of being my daughter.”
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