Chapter 1
The very first day the real heiress came home, my mom told me to give up my room.
She said, "Seraphina, Elara's had a tough life. You should let her have her way."
I looked at the real heiress, Elara, who was staring at me with stars in her eyes, and the comments floating above her head.
It read: [Oh my god, Elara finally met her idol in person!]
Before I could even react, Elara threw herself at me, hugging my leg.
"Seraphina! I'm your biggest fan! Can I have your autograph?" she begged.
My mom, who always played favorites, froze on the spot.
*****
The glare from the chandelier in the living room made my eyes sting.
My so-called mother, Margaret Duskwood, was clutching Elara's hand, her eyes practically overflowing with pity.
"Elara, you've had a tough time all these years," Margaret said.
Elara was wearing faded jeans, stood there, fidgeting, her head hung low.
She was Elara Nightingale, the true heiress of this family.
And me, Seraphina Duskwood, I was just the imposter who got switched at birth.
My dad, Harold Duskwood, sat at the head of the sofa, cleared his throat, and glanced at me.
"Seraphina, Elara just got back today and doesn't know her way around. Show her around the house," he said.
His tone was cold and formal now, with none of the warmth he used to have.
I nodded, but before I could say anything, Margaret jumped in.
"Don't just stand there. Elara's room isn't even ready yet," she snapped.
As she spoke, her gaze bore straight into me.
"Seraphina, move up to the attic and let Elara have your big south-facing bedroom," she ordered.
I froze, completely blindsided.
That room was where I had lived since birth until now.
That room contained all the traces of my growing up.
"Mom, the attic..." I hesitated.
"What?" Margaret snapped.
Her face darkened, her tone suddenly icy.
"Elara's been through eighteen years of hardship, and you've been living in her room all that time. Isn't it only fair she gets it back now?" Margaret snapped.
"You're just a fake who's enjoyed all the luxuries in our family for eighteen years. What more could you possibly want?" she fumed.
Her words felt like venom-tipped needles, each one piercing straight into my heart.
Just then, lines of transparent, colorful text started floating in front of my eyes.
[Damn, this mom's favoritism is way too obvious!]
[My heart goes out to Seraphina, looks like she's about to get booted out of the house!]
[Hey, chill, Elara's not like that!]
I blinked hard.
Was I seeing things? I wondered.
I stared at the words, and they just kept popping up.
[Guys, look! Elara's meeting her idol IRL and she's literally shaking!]
[Elara: Am I dreaming right now? I'm actually breathing the same air as my goddess!]
[Seraphina is the universally acknowledged ice queen beauty of showbiz, and in person, she's a thousand times more stunning than on TV!]
Following the comments' cue, I glanced over at Elara, who still had her head down.
Sure enough, she was trembling, her knuckles white from gripping the hem of her shirt.
Was she...my fan? A wave of disbelief washed over me.
An absurd thought popped into my head.
Margaret, seeing me hesitate, gave me an impatient shove.
"What, cat got your tongue? Go pack your stuff, don't make Elara wait," she snapped.
Her shove was strong enough that I stumbled.
[Damn! This mom is acting like one of those evil stepmoms from a soap opera. Can she just get lost already?]
[Don't touch my daughter! Seraphina, run!]
[Hold up, Elara's about to make her move: fan-wife defender mode activated!]
Just as I was about to clap back, Elara, who'd been silent this whole time, suddenly looked up.
She shot forward like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, throwing her arms out to shield me.
Facing Margaret, Elara stammered out loudly.
"No! Don't you dare bully her!" she shouted.
The air in the living room seemed to freeze.
Harold frowned.
Margaret's face was full of disbelief.
"Elara, what...what did you just say?" Margaret stared in disbelief.
She probably thought her long-lost daughter would join forces with her to kick me out, the fake who took Elara's rightful spot.
Elara gathered all the courage she could muster, her face burning red, her voice shaking.
"I don't want to live in Seraphina's room," she said.
"I... I'll just stay in the attic!" she added.
After she finished, she peeked back at me, her eyes practically sparkling with worship and nerves.
[Elara, you rock! Stand up for her!]
[My ship is real! The main couple is actually giving us fan service!]
[Margaret's expression is cracking me up. She looks like she just swallowed a fly.]
I stared at the crazy flood of comments rolling by, then at Elara, who was shielding me.
At that moment, I finally knew one thing for sure.
I felt like I could see a barrage of audience comments floating right in front of me.
And Elara, the true heiress who was supposed to be my "enemy," was indeed my fan.
Margaret's face went from pale to livid, cycling through every shade of disbelief.
"Elara, are you sure she didn't trick you? Don't be fooled by how glamorous she looks, she's actually..." Margaret started.
"She's not!" Elara cut her off, her voice trembling with emotion.
Elara cut her off, her voice shaking with excitement.
"Seraphina is the best! She buys cat food for strays, secretly sponsors underprivileged students, and donates a ton of her earnings from acting to charity!" she cried out.