Chapter 1

When my family finally acknowledged me, I was already a middle-aged woman.

They sent only a rickety little carriage and a single maid to fetch me, every detail dripping with disdain.

The moment my father saw me, he warned me not to dream of replacing Rowena, the impostor who had taken my place.

He said, "Rowena is now a baroness. The advantages she brings to our family are far beyond your reach. To the outside world, you will remain my adopted daughter.

"As for your little charity, close it at once. Those children are of uncertain origin. Who knows if they'll try to take advantage of our family?"

Rowena, adorned in pearls and jewels, stood gracefully by my father's side.

She said, "Sybil, don't blame Father. People are talking about how you adopted those children to satisfy your own whims. It damages our reputation.

"My daughter Matilda is already engaged to Lord Ashfield. At a time like this, we cannot afford any scandal."

But I had used my charity to help countless orphans.

The very Lord Ashfield she mentioned had grown up in that charity. Grateful to me as his benefactor, he now had influence throughout the court and had become the tutor to the crown prince, his future limitless.

And my family was foolish enough look down on the connections I had built.

When I stayed silent, my father's frown deepened. He slammed his cup down on the table.

He said, "Growing up outside the family, you really have no manners. Your sister and I have said so much. Aren't you going to show where you stand?

"If I'd known, I never would've listened to your grandmother and brought you back. The butler says you don't bother to settle down and start a proper family.

"Instead, you spend all your time at that Charity House, using the excuse of helping children to cover up all sorts of unsavory things. It's a disgrace."

Since I stepped into the room, my father's gaze had been nothing but indifferent. Now, there was anger simmering beneath the surface, but not a shred of fatherly concern for me.

But I wasn't that girl anymore. The one who used to crave her family's affection. Truth was, I didn't even feel let down anymore.

He said, "Rowena is now Mark Crane's wife, and his sister Grace Crane is highly favored at the palace. No one can ever know the truth about her origins.

"So, to the outside world, Rowena is the only legitimate daughter of the Peyton family.

"I know you've had a rough time these years, but Rowena was just a kid back then. How could any of this be her fault?"

I stared at Father, my gaze completely unreadable.

After thirty years of shared bonds, blood alone could never cut those ties.

Rowena's birth mother used to be my mother's personal maid. To stay in my father's good graces, Mother personally made her his concubine.

Later, both women became pregnant. Mother was afraid the maid would be the first to give the Peyton family its first son, so she tried to end the pregnancy with a bowl of herbal medicine. Father stopped her just in time.

She didn't get her way, but that's when the bad blood between them really started.

Both women gave birth one after another on the same day. Somehow, the maid actually switched the two baby girls, and snuck me out of the Peyton estate that very night.

It was a snowy night when she abandoned me in a freezing alley, leaving me to die out there. But fate had other plans. I survived, and someone took me in.

"Sybil, I know this isn't fair to you, but Father's just looking out for the family," Rowena said, stepping up beside me, looking conflicted.

The first thing out of my brother's mouth was to accuse me of being selfish. Andrew Peyton was practically itching to throw me out.

"Sybil, don't push your luck. The Peyton family only took you in because of Grandma. Just being our adopted daughter is enough to keep you living in comfort for the rest of your life. What more do you want?" Andrew scoffed.

"Rowena is all grace and beauty, and you? You're just some nobody from the sticks. How could you ever measure up?" he spat.

Coming back to myself, my eyes flicked over Rowena and my brother, finally landing on Father, cold and steady.

"You're right, Father. Honestly, I'm used to being Sybil Shaw anyway, no need to take back the Peyton name," I said, my voice steady.

Claiming family ties without real recognition is pointless.

I made my own way for decades without the Peyton family. If I never truly fit in, how could this place ever be called home?