Chapter 1The Swap: Raising a Viper in the Nest

I was often so hungry I'd steal my mom's money—just eight dollars for lunch money.

When she caught me, she smashed a chair over my leg, breaking it:

"With a worthless life like yours, starving and freezing is what you deserve..."

All these years, no matter how hard I tried to please her, she never gave me a single kind look.

Curses and brutal beatings were my three meals a day.

Today, I finally found out why she didn't love me.

She isn't my biological mother at all.

I am just the child she swapped with my aunt!

I will uncover her secrets piece by piece, and I will never let her get what she wants.

* * *

I was starving to death, so I stole my mom's phone to transfer some money.

That's when I saw the message my uncle sent her:

"Chloe is also my biological daughter. Even if you didn't give birth to her, you should treat her better. Don't go too far."

I scrolled for a long time before I finally understood the secret they had hidden for years.

The sound of water in the bathroom suddenly stopped.

My mom was done showering and would be out any second.

It was too late.

I quickly snapped a few photos of her phone with mine and marked my uncle's message as unread.

I rapidly opened my own chat window and sent an eight-dollar red envelope.

"Chloe Harper, what are you doing? Huh?!"

My mom snatched the phone away and yanked my hair, roaring.

I couldn't let her know I discovered her illicit affair with my uncle.

So, I had to expose my own secret to her.

It just meant I wouldn't have breakfast again.

"Mom, I'm hungry. I'm starving."

Furious, she pinched and beat me.

She grabbed my phone and transferred the eight dollars back.

I was long used to physical pain. I hugged her leg, continuing to provoke her.

"Can I just keep the money? I just want to be able to eat a piece of bread every morning."

As expected, she threw the phone aside and kicked me:

"Eat what? Look at yourself, do you deserve to eat?"

"Mia was born on the same day as you. She's pretty, has a great figure, and is sweet and smart."

"Unlike you! Fat as a pig, looking like an old woman at fifteen. Every time I take you out, I can't even lift my head."

Speaking of this, her gaze toward me became even more disgusted.

The Mia she was talking about was her biological daughter, whom she had swapped and given to my Aunt Sarah, making her my nominal cousin.

Before, I didn't understand. I was always sad that she liked Mia more.

I also wanted to be like Mia—pretty, confident, radiant, someone everyone liked.

But growing up, I was always hungry. Every time I saw food, I could only stuff it frantically into my mouth.

Because I was hungry. Because I didn't know when I would have a full meal again.

My appetite grew larger and larger. I ballooned to nearly 150 pounds, and I ruined my stomach.

Standing next to Mia, I was mud, and she was a cloud.

I became insecure, living like a rat in the gutter.

Even so, I still thought my mom didn't love me because I was a jinx who brought bad luck to my family, because I wasn't good enough.

Now I understood.

She was intentionally raising me to be a failure.

She and my uncle had an affair and conspired to covet my Aunt Sarah's fortune, but they couldn't just take it.

So they came up with a scheme to swap the babies.

She sent her biological daughter to my aunt to be her heir.

All these years, they had been living like parasites attached to my aunt.

Every day, she had to watch the man she loved play the loving husband with her "good sister-in-law" right in front of her.

Plus, my aunt was prettier and more successful than her.

Her jealousy twisted her mind, and she sought balance by taking it out on me.

The stark difference between me and Mia was like the role reversal between her and my aunt.

She must be feeling really good right now, wasn't she?

Curled up on the floor, I looked up at her and smiled:

"Mom, since you like Mia so much, why not let her be your daughter? Actually, I really wish Aunt Sarah was my real mom too."

This sentence drove her crazy. She picked up a dining chair nearby and screamed at me:

"You think I want to be your mom? What right does your worthless life have to compare with Mia?"

The chair landed on my calf.

I saw my leg bend at a grotesque angle.

My mom was tired from beating me.

Panting, she sat down on the sofa and picked up her phone.

She seemed to see the message my uncle sent, then glared at me in dissatisfaction:

"Did you play the victim in front of your uncle and aunt again? Did they give you money?"

"Bring your phone here for me to check."

Afraid she would see the photos on my phone, I dragged my leg, proactively opened the balance screen, and handed it to her.

She glanced at it, her gaze sweeping over my crooked leg.

"What happened to your leg?" Her brow furrowed again, then she sighed. "Can't you just behave? If you didn't piss me off, would I have hit you?"

"I transferred the money you wanted. Tell your uncle and aunt you broke it yourself falling down, understand?"

"Now go downstairs first. Don't let anyone know you got hurt at home."

Amidst her complaints, my phone received a message.

A transfer from her.

Eight dollars.