Chapter 2

Charlotte wasn't satisfied with just watching me get mocked. She wanted to stamp out any flicker of maternal affection Margaret might ever feel for me.

Just then, I stood at the top of the stairs, and she blocked my path, a smug little smile curving her lips as she stared at me.

"Tessa, don't even think about competing with me. Dad, Mom, and Ethan all love me best. You don't stand a chance," Charlotte purred, her voice sickly sweet but laced with venom.

"Besides, Mom would never care for someone like you—a girl who used to shovel horse manure."

I tilted my head, keeping my tone cool. "Move. You're in the way.

"And stop acting like this."

The second the words left my mouth, she let out a shrill scream and hurled herself backward toward the stairs, feigning a fall.

"Mom, help me!" she shrieked.

Everyone in the hall turned to look at us.

But before she could fling herself down, I caught her by the arm and pulled her back without even blinking.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, confusion hanging in the air.

Charlotte hung there awkwardly, her fake stumble laid bare.

I leaned close to her ear, whispering, "You might want to learn how to plot and scheme, my dear sister. Come on, at least try something new. Faking a fall's gotten stale."

Margaret shouted from downstairs, "Tessa, what are you doing? Are you bullying your sister?"

I shot her a look, a sly smile playing at my lips.

"Nope. I wasn't bullying her before. But now? I am."

I let go of Charlotte's arm, and before she could steady herself, I kicked her right down the stairs.

"Go on, now you can really scream 'Mom, help!'"

Charlotte shrieked all the way down, her voice echoing through the hall.

Margaret nearly fainted from shock and rushed over to Charlotte.

The stairs weren’t that steep—Charlotte knew she wouldn't get seriously hurt if she fell. That was why she'd been bold enough to pull off her little plot.

Charlotte curled into Ethan's arms, shaking like a leaf. "I'm sorry, Mom. I must have upset Tessa by taking her place. It's all my fault. Please don't blame her."

The crowd swarmed, gossiping and shooting me glances.

"So this is Mrs. Goodwin's biological daughter? Tsk, no manners at all," someone whispered.

"Poor Charlotte. How's she ever going to catch a break now? Honestly, I feel bad for her," another person sighed.

Margaret sprang to her feet, fury blazing in her eyes, and marched straight toward me.

She raised her hand, aiming a slap at my face.

I caught her arm effortlessly.

"Tessa Goodwin! Are you defying me now?"

Wordlessly, I pulled out my phone and thrust it into her face, showing her the video I'd just secretly recorded.

Margaret's expression froze, her face hardening like stone.

Charlotte struggled to her feet, voice wobbly with tears. "No, Mom, that's not it. I just… I envy how well Tessa did, even with her adoptive family. I'm scared I won't fit in if I come home. That's all, Mom, I swear—I didn't mean anything else."

Margaret stroked her hair gently. "Sweetheart, I believe you."

Then she turned to me, voice frosty. "So what's your point? Are you accusing Charlotte of stealing your place, wanting to send her back to shovel manure for you? Dream on! Charlotte will always be my daughter.

"Tessa, I can't believe my own daughter ended up like this after all these years."

I shrugged, tone calm. "You've got it backwards. Even if Charlotte and I swapped lives, she'd still be just an orphan with nowhere to go. If my dad hadn't pulled me off the street, I'd have died in that downpour twenty years ago."

Margaret's face flickered with a mix of emotions.

Ethan snorted, "That still doesn't mean you can just kick Charlotte down the stairs!"

I walked over to Charlotte, stopping right in front of her.

"You're right," I said, my voice low and cutting. "You're an ungrateful, two-faced bitch—stealing my place, putting on that innocent act, even goading me on."

I turned to Ethan, jabbing a finger at him. "And you? Stop acting like you're some devoted brother. You're just as fake."

With that, I headed upstairs to my room.

The whole house reeked of hypocrisy.

Margaret looked ready to chase after me, but Ethan stopped her, murmuring something.

Strangely enough, she actually held back.

Something was off. Really off.

Honestly, I couldn't wait to see what shady games they were plotting.