Chapter 3Switched at Birth: I Was Replaced, But I Refuse to Play the Victim

Before I got into the Sterlings' luxury SUV, Auntie Betty shoved a shopping bag into my arms, claiming it was the dance squad's new uniform.

But inside was a brand-new, trendy athletic outfit.

I knew the aunties were worried I wouldn't have decent clothes for my new school, so they all chipped in to buy this for me.

I quietly thanked them, handed over the discounted eggs I had fought for at the supermarket, and securely locked my new bag of rice and cooking oil in the cabinet.

Standing nearby, Grayson reminded me that there was no need to lock things up; I would never be coming back to this dump.

I tilted my head, glancing at the Sterling parents and the younger brother huddled behind Grayson, whispering comforting words to Serena. I just smiled at him and didn't say a word.

Grayson looked back, then couldn't help but say:

"Chloe, Serena didn't mean it. She really feels guilty toward you. She's cried about it at home so many times..."

"Ah, yes. Sure, sure."

I brushed him off, grabbed the new clothes the aunties gave me, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and slid straight into the car.

In the car, I looked at my phone while the Sterlings looked at me.

Auntie Martha sent me $500 on Venmo: [This is a little something from the aunties. Do not refuse it!]

Auntie Betty messaged the group chat: [Chloe, honey, if you don't feel comfortable over there, you just come right back home.]

The other aunties chimed in with their agreement.

Everyone in our neighborhood was working-class. Even though the aunties were retired, they lived on meager pensions of less than a thousand dollars a month. Women like Auntie Betty still worked at the farmer's market just to make ends meet.

Every dollar they spent on me over the years was saved by literally taking food out of their own mouths.

Sending me such a huge amount of money now meant they had noticed my biological parents' blatant favoritism and were terrified I would suffer in the Sterling house.

"Chloe, honey... your outfit."

Catherine Sterling frowned at my bedazzled tracksuit, finally unable to hold her tongue. "From now on, you are a daughter of the Sterling family. Your attire and manners need to be appropriate."

"And at your age, you should be making friends with people your own age. Broaden your horizons, expand your social circles, instead of hanging around those... elderly women every day."

"In this regard, you can learn a lot from Serena. It'll also help the two of you bond as sisters."

Catherine spoke with utmost sincerity, and Serena, of course, played along perfectly.

She reached out to grab my hand, her attitude so artificially affectionate it gave me goosebumps.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll make sure to teach my sister everything."

"Sister, when we get home, I'll pick out a few nice outfits for you from my closet. As for what you're wearing, let's just have the housekeeper throw it away."

"Yeah," Mason, sitting next to Serena, chimed in. "I don't even know what that garbage is on your back. It's hideous. If you dress like that from now on, don't tell anyone you're a Sterling. It's humiliating."

I paused, stopped typing a reply to my beloved aunties, and looked at the group with a bright smile.

"But do you know why I'm always wearing these grandma tracksuits?"