Chapter 4The Switch: A Life Reclaimed

I walked down the stairs stiffly, my feet feeling like I was walking on cotton. I was afraid if I stepped too hard, I'd wake up and realize this was all a dream.

I was starting to get attached to this dream.

The dining table was filled with over a dozen dishes. It was a grand affair.

Mom and Liam kept piling food into my bowl until it was overflowing.

"I peeled the shrimp for you, eat it while it's hot."

"This abalone is really fresh, try a bite."

"This carp soup is the housekeeper's specialty. Mom will get you a small bowl. Careful, it's hot. Drink it when it cools down."

I took a cautious sip. Just then, Dad walked in holding my sister's hand.

Even though he was the CEO of a listed company, he was carrying her small backpack himself.

My sister was cute, looking like a delicate doll. She had pigtails and a bunch of clips in her hair, looking like a princess living in a fairytale castle.

Seeing me, she timidly called out, "Sister?"

I bit my lip. Was my dream going to shatter this quickly?

Mom had apologized to me before:

"I'm sorry, Ava. We discussed it for a long time, but we couldn't bring ourselves to send Chloe back. After all, we raised her for 15 years."

"If she went back, the drop in lifestyle would be too huge. She wouldn't be able to handle it, and it would break our hearts."

"Even though there's no blood relation, in our eyes, she's been our daughter for a long time."

"I know you suffered and went through hell, but it wasn't her fault. Chloe cried so many times, saying she didn't mean for this to happen, that she'll make it up to you and earn your forgiveness. Please let her stay, okay?"

"I promise, even if I'm biased, I'll be biased towards you."

Facing Mom's pleading eyes, I couldn't refuse. I had no right to refuse. After all, to this family of four, I was the real "outsider."

Whenever I dreamed of things I didn't deserve, my foster mother would curse me out and slap me.

"You stupid little wretch! Look in the mirror at your ugly face! Do you deserve anything? Pfft!"

"Let me tell you, rotten melons don't produce good seeds. You're delusional! A toad wanting to eat swan meat! You just don't have the destiny for it!"

Back then, I was hung up and beaten for a whole day.

And the reason? I saw other classmates eating lollipops and begged my foster mom to buy me one.

That lollipop was on special at a new store. It cost ten cents.

I lowered my head and stopped drinking the soup. I was waiting.

Waiting for Chloe to throw herself into Mom and Dad's arms and cry, asking why they brought me back.

Waiting for Mom and Dad to make me apologize, scolding me for making their daughter unhappy.

Waiting for my brother to heartache for Chloe and cut ties with me. "Get out! You're not my sister! I hate you!"

It was so strange. I had only been with them for a short time. Why did imagining these scenes feel like a knife twisting in my heart?

Clearly, this was normal. I had always been the child who wasn't favored. Why did it hurt so much?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe walking towards me with a mournful face.

Sigh. Isn't that how it goes in TV dramas?

I accepted my fate. I closed my eyes and offered my left cheek.

My right cheek was still swollen from my foster mom's beating. If she hit the left one, at least I'd be symmetrical.

I waited for a long time. I expected a burning pain. Instead, a pair of soft, warm lips pressed against my left cheek. Not only did I not get hit, I got a kiss.

I opened my eyes in surprise.

Chloe threw herself into my arms. She was wailing, her small arms wrapped around my waist, melting like a little snowman.

"I'm sorry, big sis! Can you please not hate me?"

"I really don't want to leave this home. Please don't kick me out, okay? I didn't mean to take your place."

"I won't acknowledge my biological parents, never in this life. I only acknowledge you as my sister. Good sister, can you please like me in the future? I promise I'll be good!"

She... she wasn't following the script?

Was it my imagination? They seemed... actually welcoming?

Even Dad, who had been stoic the whole time, had tears in the corners of his eyes.

No, no, no. This must be their disguise. My foster mom said I was the worst child in the world and no one would like me.

Yes, that must be it.