Chapter 2

The heat in the Maybach was right, and the rain streaks on the windows turned into a thin mist from the warmth inside. I leaned back in my seat, finally letting my mind wander for a second.

The middle-aged man up front was Joe, the Grant family driver.

"Ms. Grant, Mr. Grant has been waiting for you," Joe said, catching my eye in the rearview mirror, his gaze apologetic. "About what happened years ago, we've been searching for you for a long time."

I gave a quiet "yeah," not asking for any details.

Some answers, I already knew. I didn't want to face them.

Three years ago, I was volunteering at the hospital, sorting through old files, when I stumbled upon a record buried at the bottom, a mix-up.

Two baby girls born on the same day had their wristbands switched. That was when it all clicked that why I never looked like my adoptive parents, why my blood type never matched theirs.

But I never went looking for the Grant family.

I thought I already had a new life. I was married to Leon; if it was cold, at least it was a light in the darkness.

Since the light was gone, I realized there was still another path for me.

By the time the car rolled up to Grant Manor, the rain had almost stopped. The gates opened slowly, and the lights inside flowed out, soft and welcoming like a gentle river.

I got out, and the first thing I saw was an older man with silver hair, standing tall at the door. He didn't look like he was greeting a stranger, more like he was waiting for a lost child to come home.

"Nina," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm glad you're back."

My throat tightened. I suddenly didn't know what to call him.

He stepped forward, then paused, like he was afraid he'd scare me. In the end, he draped his coat over my shoulders, and his hand shook a little.

"I'm Richard Grant," he said. "You're my daughter."

My eyes burned with tears, but I held them back. I didn't want to cry on their doorstep.

A woman stepped out from inside, dressed in a simple cashmere cardigan. Her gaze was so gentle that it made my heart soften.

She walked up to me, carefully raised her hand, and touched my cheek gently.

"So much alike," she whispered. "You used to look at people this way when you were little, so quiet and gentle."

I felt something inside me crumble. Someone actually remembered what I was like as a child.

When I was about to be swept away by this long-lost warmth, a crisp female voice echoed from the stairs. "Dad, Mom, is this the sister you brought back?"

I looked up. A girl was standing on the stairs in a white dress, her makeup flawless and her smile perfectly poised.

But the way she looked at me was like I was some unexpected intruder who might take her place.

Richard's face darkened a little. "Maya, come down. Say hello to Nina."

She came down the stairs, walked up to me, and held out her hand. "Hello, Nina. I'm Maya Grant. From now on, we're family."

I took her hand. Her fingers were icy cold, but she squeezed so hard it felt like she was trying to leave a mark on my palm.

Margaret's words, "Who do you think you are?" flashed through my mind, and I suddenly smiled. I said, "Family? I hope so."

*****

That night, I moved into a guest room at Grant Manor. The place was absurdly spacious, and outside the window was an immaculate garden. But no matter how plush the mattress, I couldn't fall asleep.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from a number I didn't recognize: [You really think coming back to the Grant family will turn things around? Nina, you're nothing but a substitute the Stone family threw away.]

I stared at the message, but my hand didn't tremble. I knew instantly who sent it. It was Maya. She didn't bother to pretend.

I set my phone down on the nightstand and closed my eyes, but my mind drifted back to the first time I met Leon three years ago.