Chapter 1

I was the real daughter of the Zimmer family, the one who had been kidnapped and sold away. Six years later, I finally returned home.

But by then, my family already had a substitute girl filling my place.

Emily Zimmer had always been soft and kind, but after six years with the traffickers, I, Grace Zimmer, returned with a hardened edge and a lifetime of baggage.

My parents were disappointed in me. After I had yet another blow-up with Emily, my mother, Linda Zimmer, snapped with tears, "Why can't you be more like Emily?

"She's so well-behaved, and you're just wild. Perhaps you should return to your foster parents, where you truly belong."

What they didn't know was that my so-called foster parents were the ones who had trafficked me years ago.

I looked at them and replied with a nod, "Okay."

Just like that, I ended up back in the house of the very people who had trafficked me.

My real parents thought I was throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days, begging to be let home.

But a month went by, and there was no sign of me.

Panic set in, and they sent people out to look for me.

What they found was a girl's body, abused to death and with her eyes gouged out, dressed in the clothes I was wearing when I left.

They lost it.

And Emily was so terrified that she couldn't even speak.

It finally hit them that they had, with their own hands, sent their daughter straight back to hell all over again.

Five years later, at a business cocktail party.

I walked in as a CEO and became the center of attention, my presence magnetic and commanding.

My father, Richard Zimmer, stepped forward as if drawn by something inevitable, his voice unsteady as he asked for my name.

I took off my eye patch, showing the hollow socket where my left eye used to be, and smiled right at him.

"Long time no see, Dad," I said. "Or rather, Mr. Zimmer."

*****

The day I returned to the Zimmer family, they held a lavish welcome party for me.

The table was covered with gourmet delicacies, each dish crafted like a piece of art.

But my eyes were fixed on that simple loaf of bread.

In that hellhole, I hadn't had a whole loaf in six years.

I snatched it up and shoved it into my mouth as fast as I could, ignoring the pain in my throat.

The room went dead silent.

Everyone was staring at me like I was a total weirdo.

"Slow down. No one is going to take it from you," Richard said with a frown, his voice carrying a hint of disdain.

Linda turned her head away, unable to watch.

Sitting across from me, Emily quickly picked up a piece of steak for me.

Emily looked at me and said softly, "Sara, slow down. There's plenty more."

But in her gentle voice, I caught a trace of scorn in her eyes.

I froze, the food stuffed in my mouth suddenly hard to swallow.

My brother, Henry Zimmer, slammed his fork down on the table.

He sneered, "You eat like you haven't seen food in years. Aren't you embarrassed?"

I froze, my whole body tense, fingers clutching the plate so hard that they turned pale.

Coming back to this so-called home meant swapping one prison for another.

Richard cleared his throat, trying to break the tension.

"Sara Dawson just got back. She's still not used to things. Emily, you should show her the ropes," he said.

My name is Grace.

Sara was the name the traffickers gave me.

They didn't care enough to remember my real name.

After dinner, Emily led me to what used to be my room.

Once, it was my princess room, with pink walls and plush toys everywhere, the kind of place every little girl dreams of.

But now, every single thing here belonged to Emily.

The closet was overflowing with beautiful princess dresses.

"Sara, Mom and Dad bought all these for me. Look, this newest dress costs a fortune," Emily said.

She was flaunting it all, her smile pure and innocent on the surface.

All I had was a tiny bundle of old, faded clothes that had been washed so many times that they were almost threadbare.

"Your room is over there," Emily said.

She pointed to the tiny, dark maid's room at the end of the hallway.

"It used to be a storage closet, but I begged Mom and Dad to clean it up for you. It's small, but it's better than nothing," she added.

I stared at her, not saying a word.

Her pride was written all over her face.

That night, hunger woke me up.

Dinner hadn't come close to filling me up. My stomach felt like it was on fire.

I crept into the kitchen, looking for anything I could eat.

The fridge was stuffed with snacks and fruit of every kind.

I was about to drink from a carton of milk when I heard Emily's voice behind me.

"Sara, are you stealing?" she said.