Chapter 1
It was my third year back with the Peyton family when Esther Peyton, the girl who took my place, jumped into the sea.
Her final words were, "I wish I could be Mom's real daughter if I had another life." That pushed Mom over the edge and turned her hatred toward me.
Mom yelled at me more than once, "Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it have been you? If there had to be a mistake, why couldn't we just live with it? Why did you have to come back?"
Even when I was insulted and bullied, she thought I was a disgrace and made me bow my head and apologize to the ones who hurt me.
Mom snapped at me, "If something goes wrong, you're always to blame."
Weeks after what everyone thought was Esther's death, I broke the cup she had used.
Blinded by anger, Mom shoved me into the basement of the old house and locked me in.
At first, someone remembered to bring me food, but as time went on, they all forgot about me.
Six months later, Esther, the girl they all thought was dead, walked back through the door, and the whole family broke down in tears of joy.
Mom finally opened the basement door.
All that remained inside was a set of bones and a diary.
On the last page of the diary were my final words.
I wrote: [I don't want to be Mom's real daughter if I had another life.]
*****
When Mom burst into the police station, Linda Shaw, the female officer on duty, was just bringing me a cup of hot water.
When Linda saw Mom's face, which looked so much like mine, she walked quickly toward Mom.
"Are you Anne Peyton's parent? You're finally here. She's not in good shape..." Linda said.
Linda didn't even get to finish before a sharp slap rang out.
My face, already covered in bruises, instantly burned with a fresh handprint.
Linda froze, then yanked me behind her and demanded, "Mrs. Peyton, what are you doing? Anne's been hurt by others, and now you're hitting her too?"
Mom stared at me like I was something filthy she couldn't stand to touch.
"If people only pick on her and nobody else, she must have asked for it. It takes two to tango," Mom snapped.
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me, washing away all the pain and fear and leaving nothing but numbness. Stunned into silence, I just stood there, not able to get a word out.
Just two hours ago, I got cornered in an alley by a bunch of thugs on my way home from school. They tore up my uniform and did all kinds of humiliating things to me. If a passerby hadn't called the cops, I probably wouldn't have made it out of there alive.
I was still shaking when I was brought to the police station, and Mom's first act was to slap me hard.
Linda stared at Mom in utter disbelief.
"What kind of mother are you? How could you say something like that to your own daughter? 'It takes two to tango?' Your slap didn't need a partner," Linda shot back.
Even after Linda called her out, Mom just scoffed. "She's a disgrace. Honestly, I wish she weren't my daughter."
I stared at Mom blankly, lost in a daze.
Right. She hated me so much. Why would she ever care if someone else hurt me?
I came back to the Peyton family three years ago.
Just like in those TV dramas, Esther and I got switched at birth.
Even though Mom felt sorry for all the years I'd suffered, she couldn't bring herself to put Esther, the daughter she'd loved for years, through the same hardship. So, I returned home, while Esther stayed as my sister.
My parents tried to make it up to me, but they made sure not to take from Esther to do it. Still, Esther never accepted me.
She smiled to my face. But openly, and in secret, she competed with me—over jewelry, over grades, over everything.
Mom was kind to me. For three years, I kept quiet and went along with everything. I didn't want to risk the hard-won warmth I finally had.
But not long ago, during a midterm, I lost my grip and accidentally outscored her.
She totally lost it and, in a fit of rage, jumped into the sea.
Her final words were, "I wish I could be Mom's real daughter if I had another life." That pushed Mom over the edge and turned her hatred toward me.
She broke down and screamed at me more than once, "Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it have been you? If there had to be a mistake, why couldn't we just live with it? Why did you have to come back and drive my precious Esther to her death?"
After Dad gently suggested I keep my distance, I moved into the school dorm, then the servants' quarters.
I made myself invisible.
When the police rescued me, I honestly had no idea who to call. But when they dialed Mom's number and she agreed to come, a tiny spark of hope flickered inside me.
Then her slap killed it. It reminded me that Mom still couldn't stand the sight of me.
Linda tried to stand up for me again, but Mom cut her off.
"We're not pressing any charges. I'm taking my daughter home. Is that clear?" Mom snapped.
The other officers who'd come over were left speechless, and Linda was shaking with anger.
I gave a wry, bitter smile. So this is how much Mom despised me.
I slipped off the coat draped over my shoulders, revealing my school uniform underneath—torn and ragged.
I bowed to all the officers, then limped over to Mom, meekly keeping my head down. "Let's go, Mom," I said softly.
Right before I left the station, Linda hurried after me and pressed a note into my palm. She whispered, "Call if you need anything. And don't worry. We're handling the case. With or without her."
"Thank you," I murmured.
It didn't change anything. But I was grateful all the same.