Chapter 1

When my biological parents finally tracked me down, I was standing in the backyard with a butcher knife, helping my family slaughter a hog.

They froze. After a moment of hesitation, they pulled a delicate, fragile-looking girl forward and faced my parents.

They said, "The one holding the knife is our biological daughter. This one is yours."

That was the exact moment I found out I was the switched-at-birth heiress to a massive fortune.

But when I actually went home with my real parents, I realized something painfully clear. They didn't love me at all.

*****

I never thought the whole switched-at-birth trope would happen to me.

It wasn't until my biological parents showed up at our front door that I learned I was the true heiress to the Glory Group.

I stood there with my butcher knife, looking at my dad, then at my mom.

They looked completely dumbfounded.

Honestly, it made sense. Who wouldn't be thrown off by something like this?

But my mom was quick to recover.

She stepped up, shielded me from the impeccably dressed couple, and waved them off. "You've got the wrong house. There's no daughter of yours here."

"That's impossible. Harper is our biological child!" the woman insisted. "Seventeen years ago, I accompanied my husband on a business trip to Omacia.

"I went into premature labor there. At the time, we were the only two women in that hospital having girls. A nurse accidentally mixed up the name tags, and the babies were swapped."

I really was born in an Omacia hospital. My mom had told me the story before, and it was a terrifying one.

She had been heavily pregnant and out feeding the pigs when she slipped and fell.

By the time my dad found her, she had passed out in a pool of blood.

That accident caused my premature birth.

The wealthy woman then rattled off my exact birthday.

Even so, my mom refused to believe it. She felt like this kind of soap opera drama could never happen to our family.

My dad even started presenting his own evidence. "Harper loves pork and is a natural with a butcher knife. One look and you can tell she's a Wells through and through."

"Yeah, my sister has absolutely nothing to do with you people!" My little brother, Toby, ran over and hugged my leg tightly.

I pushed him away in disgust. "You just grabbed a pig's tail and didn't wash your hands!"

He paused, wiped his grubby paws on the back of his jeans, and clamped onto my leg again.

Then he glared fiercely at the strangers.

The man in the tailored suit sighed heavily.

He pulled the fragile-looking girl from behind him and pushed her gently forward. "This is your biological daughter. If you don't believe us, we can go get a DNA test right now."

When my dad saw the girl's face, he sharply inhaled.

The reason was simple. She looked exactly like my mom did in her youth.

Even I was taken aback.

My parents kept an old photo of themselves on their nightstand. The quality wasn't great, but their features were clear.

I had looked at it countless times growing up, so the image was burned into my memory.

Looking at the girl standing in front of me, you hardly needed a DNA test to know she was my parents' real child.

But my parents insisted on the test anyway.

When the results came back, a heavy silence fell over the room.

The girl was the real biological daughter of the Wells family, and I was the true Banks family heiress.

My dad kept his head down, chain-smoking Marlboros and sighing.

My mom opened her mouth but couldn't seem to find the words.

I was just about to say something to break the tension.

Suddenly, the elegant, wealthy woman rushed forward, threw her arms around me, and burst into tears. "My daughter. My precious baby! I'm your real mother. I finally found you!"

For some reason, I instinctively resisted the embrace.

I was just about to push her away when the middle-aged man walked over with red eyes.

"Sweetheart, come home with mom and dad. We are your real family," he said.

The moment those words left his mouth, all the color drained from the face of the girl standing by the door.

She bit her lip, her eyes shining with tears.

Then she let out a soft, trembling whisper for her dad.

Hearing that, the man immediately turned around and hurried over to her side, cooing softly, "Baby, why are you crying? Are you feeling sick?"

My biological mother, who had been holding onto me for dear life just seconds ago, instinctively let go. She looked at the girl with overwhelming concern.

My adoptive parents glanced over too, but their eyes quickly shifted back to me.

Toby didn't even look at her. He ran over and grabbed my hand tight. "Harper, I'll give you all my allowance money. Can you please not go with them?"

"Absolutely not. She is our child, and she must return to the Banks family!" the woman snapped.

My little brother wasn't giving up. He pointed straight at the crying girl. "Don't you guys like that one better anyway? You can have her. Can't my sister just stay here?"

A flicker of discomfort crossed the woman's face, and her tone softened a fraction.

"It's not about what we want. It's about bloodlines." She sighed. "Forget it, I can't explain this to a child. I will discuss this with your parents."

Ultimately, my parents told me it was my choice to make.

I thought about it all night and finally decided to go back with my biological parents.