Chapter 3
I lifted a finger at Joyce.
"So, Joyce—the fake heiress who's been hogging my spot for seventeen years—when are you planning to clear out and make room for the real deal?" I asked.
Now things really blew up.
Joyce burst into even more tears.
Yesenia's face darkened instantly.
"How can you talk like that?" Yesenia snapped.
I looked at her and suddenly thought this was just absurd.
"So, what do you want me to say?" I said, not backing down. "Should I thank her for living it up in my spot for seventeen years?
"Or maybe thank you guys for sticking me out in the boonies, feeding pigs all that time?"
Yesenia's face turned ghostly pale.
Nathanael stiffened, speechless.
They had nothing to say after that.
The real heiress got stuck out in the sticks, while the fake one lived it up in the Hendrix mansion. That was just how it was.
It didn't matter how they tried to spin it. It wouldn't change a thing.
Joyce, seeing how tense things got, took a step closer, eyes all watery as she stared at me.
"Sis, I can give you my room," Joyce said, her voice shaky.
"Just please don't blame Mom and Dad, okay? It's all my fault," Joyce said.
I looked at her and suddenly couldn't help but laugh.
Man, this was some quality drama.
With the way she was acting, anyone watching would think I was pushing her over the edge.
Enzo jumped in, quick to defend her. "Joyce, what are you apologizing for? Seriously, you didn't do anything wrong."
I nodded. "Yeah, she really didn't do anything wrong. She just took over the life that was meant for me, that's all."
Enzo was left speechless, his face so dark it looked like thunderclouds.
I was done wasting my time with them.
I pulled a document out of my old woven sack and handed it to Nathanael.
"Before I came here, your people said bringing me back to the Hendrix family was supposed to make amends," I said. "So let me ask the most practical question.
"When are you putting me on the official family record?"
The whole room froze.
Bet nobody expected me to walk in—not crying, not making a scene, not begging for hugs—just straight up asking about the paperwork.
Nathanael glanced at the acceptance letter I'd handed him, and his expression shifted instantly.
"Westbridge University's advanced program acceptance?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah. "So if you really want to make things right, get me officially registered in Norville first. We'll talk about the rest later."
After that, everyone in the Hendrix family looked at me differently, especially Joyce.
She couldn't take her eyes off that acceptance letter, and she could barely hide the jealousy in her eyes.
What, only now she was starting to panic?
That was too late.
The room they gave me was tucked away in the farthest corner of the third floor.
They called it 'quiet,' but really, it was as far as you could get from the main bedroom area and Joyce's room—like they wanted me out of sight, out of mind.
Brody made sure to explain as he showed me upstairs, "Joyce is a light sleeper, so—"
I cut him off. "So I have to stay way over here so my breathing won't disturb her? She must be really precious."
Brody's smile was practically frozen, and he couldn't get a word out for ages.
The room was pretty spacious, nicely decorated, and the closet had plenty of new clothes hanging inside.
I gave everything a quick look, but didn't touch a thing.
It was not like I was being picky or anything.
It was just that none of these clothes were bought for my size.
Every single one was way too small, the waist so tiny that it was obviously meant for Joyce.
I grabbed a dress at random and waved it at Brody.
"Did you ever measure me?" I asked.
Brody looked down. "We were in a hurry."
"So, you never measured me," I said. "Bought them without even checking my size, huh? Are these actually for me, or just for her to look at?"
Brody went totally quiet.
I tossed the dress back into the wardrobe.
"Alright, you can go now," I said. "And let everyone downstairs know I'm working on exam papers tonight, so don't come up here with your family drama and try to disturb me."
Once the door was shut, I stashed my acceptance letter and competition materials in the drawer.
Then I grabbed my phone and logged into an email account I hadn't checked in forever.
The most recent email had landed in my inbox just three hours ago.
It was from Hendrix Group's HR Director
The message was short.
[Dear C.J., we'd like to have you as a special tech consultant for our smart medical project. Salary's up for discussion.]
I stared at the email and almost burst out laughing.
Seriously? They were out here trying to headhunt, and it was their own family they were after.
Too bad for them.
The genius they were so eager to snag? That was me.
I didn't even bother replying—just shut the email and moved on.
No hurry. The real show hadn't even started yet.
When dinner rolled around, Brody came knocking, saying my parents and the rest were waiting downstairs for me.
By the time I got downstairs, everyone was already seated in the dining room.
The way everyone was seated was pretty telling.