Chapter 1

Everyone around me was acting super weird lately.

My brother, who usually ignored me, suddenly offered to drive me to school.

Mom and Dad said they wanted to buy a villa and put it under my name.

And the creepiest part was, my fiancé, who acted like I was poison before, suddenly confessed his love and wanted to get serious with me.

I was lost for words.

*****

It was already dark. I stood outside the massive villa, staring at my toes for a long time.

The lights inside were bright, and I could vaguely see shadows moving behind the windows.

That was Ethan Harper and Charlotte Harper, and their parents.

They were the perfect family of four.

And I was the awkward outsider who didn't belong.

It all started three years ago. My adoptive parents fell seriously ill. Before they died, they confessed that they had switched me at birth.

To give their own daughter a life of luxury, they swapped their baby with a rich business family's child.

But after more than a decade, they were truly remorseful, feeling terribly guilty, and hoped I would find my birth parents after they were gone.

My birth parents were the Harpers of Riverton. And the girl who lived my life for over a decade was actually my adoptive parents' daughter.

I was only in ninth grade then. Anxious about my future, I nervously went to find them, explaining that I was their real daughter.

A switched-at-birth scandal wouldn't be a big deal for a family like the Harpers. But they had raised Charlotte for over a decade. Even when the DNA test confirmed I was their real daughter, they barely glanced my way.

I used to think they would love me if they just knew I was theirs.

But my father, Byron, said, "Even though Charlotte isn't our daughter by blood, we've cherished her for over a decade. Things will stay just as they were before."

My mother, Candice, added, "That's right, Jane. You're the older sister; you should let your younger sister have her way. What's past is past. Let's just live together peacefully as a family from now on."

My older brother, Ethan, simply walked out without a single word to me.

During my first year here, I felt like a statue. I had to mentally prepare myself every time before entering the house, only to be utterly crushed by the sight of their perfect family of four being all warm and cozy.

I used to hate Charlotte for stealing my life, my parents, and my brother.

Now, it wasn't even about mentally preparing myself anymore. Out of habit, I always found myself pausing here a little longer than I meant to.

When I entered, they had already finished dinner. The housekeeper, Jennifer, was clearing the table.

Seeing me, she jumped, looking apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Miss. I forgot to prepare dinner for you. I'm just used to cooking for four. I'm really sorry, I'll make something right now."

So, after three years, she still hadn't gotten used to cooking for five? Maybe because I'm rarely here. But Candice called and told me to come back today. There was no way she wouldn't know.

Candice frowned. "Why are you back so late? Can't you keep track of time?"

I clutched my school uniform pants, staring at the ground, not wanting to argue. My timid, submissive act seemed to please her, and she finally looked away from me.

Me? I was afraid of seeing the disgust and impatience in her eyes. Even though I've built up a tough shell over the years, it still stings.

Sure enough, she immediately said, "Jennifer, just go rest. It's her own fault for not coming home earlier. If she's hungry, she can cook for herself."

She then turned to dote on Charlotte. "Our Charlotte is so amazing. Ranked in the top 50 in your grade again. What reward would you like this time? Mommy will get you anything."

Charlotte's eyes lit up. "Can I get the new limited edition Hermès bag?"

Candice beamed, her eyes crinkling. "Of course."

Byron chimed in from the side, "Besides the bag, what else do you want? Daddy will buy it for you."

Charlotte looked even more thrilled. She shot me a sly glance, pure triumph in her eyes, as if saying, "See? Even if you're the biological one, so what? What's mine is mine, and you can't take it."

"Daddy, I also want the Chanel gown released last week. I'm turning 18 soon. I want to wear it to my debutante ball," Charlotte said.

Byron quickly agreed, "Okay, okay, I'll have someone buy it for you."

Ethan just smiled nearby, not saying anything, but the look he gave Charlotte was so tender.

I tried hard to ignore the sour ache in my chest and headed to my room.

My room was on the first floor—a former storage closet, so small it didn't even have a window.

Upstairs, all the spare rooms had been taken over by Charlotte's things—one for her piano, another overflowing with her clothes and shoes, and a third stuffed with her plushies and mystery box gifts.

Hiding in my cramped little room, the very air felt suffocating.

As I sat there dazed, tears suddenly started falling uncontrollably. I thought I was past letting them hurt me.

I wiped my tears, pulled out my test papers, and tried to comfort myself.

"Jane, it's okay," I whispered to myself. "Just pretend they're all dead. You were an orphan anyway. Having a roof over your head is better than nothing.

"Be grateful to them. At least they gave you a place to live."

The Harpers were afraid their precious adopted daughter might feel slighted. They didn't even want to add me to the family register.

They were afraid she'd feel wronged, but they didn't care if I, their real daughter, suffered.

At first, their attitude made me sad. But after three years of them growing colder and more impatient, I'd gotten used to it.

I took a deep breath, went to the bathroom to wash my face. Passing the living room, they were still planning Charlotte's debutante ball—who to invite, where to hold it, what favors to give.

They never considered that if Charlotte and I were switched, our birthdays would be close. In fact, Charlotte is a day older than I am. Yet, they were throwing her a lavish debutante ball right around my birthday.

I quietly returned to my room and took out my "Orphan Diary."

I started keeping a diary from the very first day I moved in with the Harpers, and I haven't missed a single entry. Honestly, I was kind of rebellious. I kept a lot of secrets from them.

I wrote my daily message to myself. [Jane, you can do this. Someone out there in the world loves you, even if you haven't met them yet. Work extra hard today.]

I locked the diary in my desk drawer, furiously completed three practice exams, read some domestic and international news, and finally went to sleep.

Early the next morning, before anyone else was awake, I was already out the door with my backpack.

On my way out, I saw Ethan squatting by the roadside, smoking. I turned and took the long way around to school.

Ethan was the last person in the Harper family I ever wanted to see.

He never said much, but his looks were worse than words.

He was always sizing me up with this disdainful stare, like I only came back for the Harpers' money.

But in the three years I'd been here, I bought my own clothes from discount stores. I ate at school. I paid the few hundred bucks for monthly expenses myself.

I'd eaten fewer than thirty meals at that house total. On breaks, I was almost always working side jobs.

I'd kept a meticulous account of the cost of those thirty meals and the "rent." Once I left, I'd pay back every cent.

For the past three years, a certain subsidy had been deposited into my account monthly.

You might be wondering what kind of subsidy it was.

Government assistance for an underage orphan, of course. Plus, all kinds of scholarships and grants from school. Honestly, the school gave me every bit of financial support they possibly could.

Lucky for me, the Harpers never bothered to change my household registration. So not long after I arrived, those orphan benefits started hitting my bank account.