Chapter 2
I didn't turn Maddox down because walking back to my little shoebox apartment would take twenty minutes.
And in those twenty minutes, I could cram twenty legal definitions.
The car glided out of the old neighborhood, smooth and steady.
In the rearview mirror, the Bentley looked like a wild beast that had strayed into the slums—finally escaping at last.
Maddox stayed silent, only occasionally glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
I ignored him, pulled out my review notebook, and quietly started reciting definitions.
I read, "An administrative entity is an organization that possesses state administrative power, can exercise administrative authority in its own name, and is independently responsible for any legal consequences resulting from its actions.
"The first characteristic: possessing state administrative power..."
The only thing breaking the silence in the car was my soft recitation.
Maddox's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
The car pulled up in front of the cramped urban village block where I rented my room.
He looked at the building, tangled in a web of electrical wires, where the neighboring structures stood so close they almost touched, and fell silent again.
"You actually live here?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"How much is the rent?" he asked.
"One hundred dollars," I replied.
I pushed the car door open, ready to get out.
"Anastasia," Maddox called out. "We've got a room ready for you at home. It's a million times better than this place."
"I know," I replied calmly. "But there's no quiet desk there. I'm just stating a fact."
A wealthy family with a fake heiress, her biological parents, and a whole tangle of relatives—one could already imagine the drama.
That place wasn't a home. It was a battlefield.
As for me? I was just someone who needed total silence to prep for my exams.
I got out of the car, my heavy backpack weighing down my shoulder, and stepped into the dark, rundown apartment block.
Maddox didn't follow me.
I got back to my tiny room and flicked on the light.
It was just 110 square feet—one bed, one desk, one bookshelf.
The bookshelf was packed with everything I owned.
I set my backpack down, pulled out my law book, and got ready to start my study plan for the night.
Just then, my phone rang.
It was my foster mom, Harper Smith.
The moment I picked up, her shrill voice cut right through the air.
She said, "Anastasia, think you're all grown up now, huh? I heard your real brother came looking for you. Where are you?
"So now that you've found yourself a rich family, you're just going to turn your back on us? Let me tell you, it's not that easy.
"Everything you have—food, clothes—was bought with my money. And now you think you can just leave?"
I put her on speaker and set the phone aside, listening to her rant while I made myself a cup of instant coffee.
When she finally ran out of steam and stopped, panting, I picked up the phone.
"Are you done?" I asked, my voice calm.
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"If you're done, I'm hanging up. I've got a mock test waiting for me," I said.
On the other end, Harper's voice was warped with rage. "Anastasia, what's with that attitude?
"Let me tell you, your real parents are loaded. It's not too much to ask them to buy your brother a house for his wedding, is it?
"And they need to get him a job too—has to be in a state-owned enterprise, something cushy and respectable.
"I raised you for eighteen years. The Harrison family owes me all of this."
I took a sip of coffee, the bitter liquid sliding down my throat.
Of course. Here it came.
This was exactly why I had to get out of here.
This so-called "home" was nothing but a bottomless pit that kept demanding more from me.
I said, "First, the whole switched-at-birth thing wasn't my fault, and it wasn't the Harrison family's fault either. That's on the hospital. If you want to blame someone, take it up with them.
"Second, you raised me for eighteen years, but since I was sixteen, I haven't taken a single dollar from you. I paid for my own tuition and living expenses by working.
"I even helped your son, Michal Fox, pay off his online loans for two years.
"So in the end, I don't owe you a thing."
My tone didn't waver, like I was reciting a legal statement.
Harper was stunned into silence, unable to come up with a single word after what I said.
A few seconds later, she went off, ranting at me.
She shrieked, "You heartless brat. I must've been blind to raise someone like you.
"I don't care. Go tell your rich brother to send me 150 thousand dollars right now.
"Otherwise, I'll go cause a scene at their company and show everyone how the Harrison family treats us poor folks."
I listened to her crying and threats, my face completely blank—no emotion at all.
I opened my phone calendar for a quick glance.
Only thirty-seven days to go until the written test.
I couldn't waste another second.
"Ms. Smith." My voice was cold and distant.