Chapter 1
I was the switched child, the fake heiress. Once the truth came out, everyone hated me.
Only my childhood sweetheart treated me as before, even inviting me to his birthday party.
But that very night, shameful photos of me were taken.
And though both he and my own brother knew the truth, neither spoke a single word to defend me.
The reason? Simply to take it out on me for the sake of the true heiress who had quietly left home.
Later, because of those photos, I was shunned by colleagues, humiliated by my boss, and finally chose to jump from the eighteenth floor.
I never imagined I would die so miserably—falling right at the feet of the true heiress who had been missing for three months.
Even more unexpectedly, she was the only mourner to shed tears for me at my funeral.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night of that party.
But it was too late. By the time I regained my senses, the photos had already gone viral on the guests' phones.
Stumbling to my feet, I frantically scanned the crowd.
"William, I didn't take those photos," I pleaded, my voice trembling.
William looked down at his crumpled sleeve in my hands, his brow furrowing.
"Then who forced you?" he snapped, shoving me aside.
"I really didn't expect you to use such dirty tricks just to stay with the Sinclair family."
I turned to Edward, my childhood sweetheart who had invited me to the party.
"Edward, we've known each other since we were kids. You have to believe me," I pleaded to him.
But when Edward met my pleading eyes, he just turned his face away.
He said, "Charlotte, you've gone too far.
"Not only did you drug me, but you even had someone secretly take those photos.
"Even if you don't care about your own reputation, haven't you thought about the Sinclair family—they've looked after you for more than twenty years."
I gave a bitter laugh and said nothing more.
Even if I got a second chance at this, I'd still be standing here, powerless to clear my name while every single person who framed me stares me down.
"All these years, we've done nothing but spoil you," William said coldly.
"If it weren't for your selfishness and recklessness, Olivia never would have run away like that," he added, his voice dripping with contempt.
My silence just made William lash out even harder.
William snapped, "You're the one who should've left, not Olivia,
"I told Mom from the beginning, keeping you in the Sinclair family would only bring disaster sooner or later."
The drug started to kick in, waves of dizziness crashing over me.
Every word William spat felt like a dagger to my chest. I could barely catch my breath.
Next thing I knew, I was out cold on the floor, drowning in everyone's harsh words.
"Pulled this stunt again, huh?" Edward scoffed.
He nudged my face with his foot in contempt, then casually told the servant nearby, "Splash her with some cold water and wake her up."
But even after three glasses of cold water, I still didn't show any sign of waking up.
Edward's face twisted with irritation as he picked up a steaming bowl of soup from the table.
He sneered, "Charlotte, you really know how to put on a show.
"I'm counting to three. If you know what's good for you, you'd better wake up.
"Otherwise, I can't say what'll happen once this hot soup lands on you."
Edward used to be the boy next door I loved most and trusted with all my heart.
If I got so much as a scratch, he'd be too worried to lose sleep all night.
Whenever I accidentally pricked my finger on the roses in the yard, he'd go ballistic and have every thorny bush uprooted.
But now, he threw all the blame on me after Olivia left home, not caring about the truth.
It was simply because she was the real heiress, and I was just the fake.
Edward began the countdown, "Three, two, one. Charlotte, you brought this on yourself."
Time was up. Without a flicker of emotion, Edward poured the soup straight into my face.
William saw everything, but he just turned his back, letting it happen without a word.
My cries rang out, shrill and desperate, filling the hall.
The burning agony on my face was overwhelming. I thrashed my arms blindly, reaching out for someone—anyone—to save me from this hell.
But there was no one. Not a single soul reached out.
People only came close just to laugh at me; no one actually wanted to help.
To William, to Edward, and to all those guests, I was just a fake—a walking punchline, a joke that had already been exposed.
There was no one left—I had no choice but to save myself.
I yelled, "I know where Olivia is.
"I can bring her back."
William came straight at me, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
William pressed, "You know where she is?"
"So what did you say to her—was it you? Is that why she disappeared?"
I gritted my teeth against the pain, refusing to argue.
"Take me to the hospital. Otherwise, I swear you'll never see her again." I spoke through the pain.