Chapter 3
"Your parents are just trying to do what's best for the family," my aunt said.
I asked her what day it was.
She hesitated, dodging the question, and wouldn't give me a straight answer.
I searched through every drawer in the house, but all I found was an old phone with no SIM card.
Using the neighbor's Wi-Fi, I logged into my email.
There was a confirmation email from Natarhen University.
It read: [Congrats, Ava Foley! Your freshman registration is complete.
[You are reporting to our law school.]
The person in the registration photo was Noelle.
She'd cut her hair into a shoulder-length style just like mine, wore my white shirt, and smiled sweetly at the camera.
I stared at the photo, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone.
That was the moment it finally hit me.
They weren't just asking me to step aside.
They wanted to steal my entire identity and hand it over to Noelle.
I recorded the email page on my old phone, then grabbed the landline and called the admissions office.
As soon as I said my name, there was a long silence on the other end.
"Ava, didn't you already register?" the person on the other end asked.
I said, "That wasn't me."
They asked me to provide my ID and admission ticket.
But all my documents were in the Foley family's hands.
I was trapped in that house and couldn't even leave the front door.
Three days later, Javier came to pick me up.
When he opened the door, I rushed at him and tried to hit him.
He didn't even flinch and just grabbed my wrist.
"Are you done making a scene?" he asked.
My voice was hoarse.
"You're breaking the law," I said.
Javier's face darkened.
He said, "Ava, don't say it like that.
"Noelle's just borrowing your identity to go to school for now.
"Once she graduates, we'll make it up to you."
I let out a laugh.
I shot back, "How are you going to make it up to me?
"Are you going to give me back my four years?"
Javier avoided my gaze.
"Just take the test again next year," he said.
I asked him, enunciating every word, "So who is Ava Foley this year?"
He didn't answer.
When I got home, I realized all my important papers, my ID, exam pass, bank card, and even my birth certificate, had been locked up in my dad's study.
My mom was sitting in the living room with a bowl of soup in her hands.
She said, "Here, drink this.
"You haven't eaten properly in three days. Don't make yourself sick."
I looked at the bowl of soup and suddenly felt sick.
She carved out my whole life and handed it to Noelle, and now she wants to act like she cares if I'm hungry.
I shoved the bowl away.
Soup splashed all over her dress.
She slapped me hard across the face.
She snapped, "You don't know what's good for you.
"After all we've done for you, is it really too much to ask you to give something back to the family?"
I covered my face and looked at her.
"I'm your real daughter," I said.
Her eyes flickered for a moment.
But her face went cold again.
"My daughter should be acting sensibly," she said.
That night, I pried open the lock on the study door.
But every single document had vanished.
The only thing left on the desk was a handwritten debt note from my dad.
He said he'd pay me 60 thousand dollars after Noelle finished school.
My acceptance letter was gone.
Even my name was gone.
They'd put a price tag on my future, which was 60 thousand dollars.
I didn't try for college again.
The Foley family wouldn't give me my birth certificate, my ID, or a single cent.
They were afraid I'd take the SAT again because they were afraid I'd stir up trouble at Natarhen University.
Javier got me a job as a cashier at a supermarket.
He looked at me and said, "Take it for now.
"With your education, you can't afford to be choosy."
I stood behind the register, scanning barcodes, bagging groceries, and handing back change.
The overhead lights kept blazing until way past midnight, making my eyes sting and my head ache.
Meanwhile, Noelle was posting pictures of the library, club activities, and scholarship certificates on her social media.
Every single certificate had my name on it.
Every time I saw it, it was like watching my name get stomped into the dirt for everyone to see.
She'd even make a point of posting those photos in the family group chat.
She wrote: [My teacher said I'm really sharp today.
[Thanks, Mom, Dad, and Javier, for always supporting me!]
My mom replied with a string of heart emojis.
Javier transferred 1500 dollars to her.
He wrote: [Noelle is the best!]
Even my dad, who almost never said a word, would actually speak up.
He wrote: [Don't get cocky. Keep working hard.]
No one ever mentioned me in that group chat.
It was as if the real Ava had been left to rot in that locked-up old house, forgotten by everyone.
I didn't leave the group chat.
I took screenshots of every single message and saved them.
I tried to get my ID reissued.
The first time, the system flagged that my ID was already being used somewhere else and said I needed to verify my identity.
The second time, when I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles, Javier got there ahead of me, told them I was mentally unstable, and hauled me away.