Chamas De Desejos Ardentes: A Herdeira Escondida

Mom's hand was warm around mine, but I was so cold I could barely move my fingers.

She fussed over my wrinkled sleeves, speaking with a tenderness I hadn't heard in four years. "Sweetheart, why are you still wearing that old warehouse uniform? I've got a new dress waiting for you at home."

Before I could respond, my younger brother, Cedric Vossmere, stepped out of the bank.

He was still wearing the white jacket Mom had bought him four years ago, with his college acceptance letter tucked under one arm. Unlike me, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see our parents alive.

"Celine, what's with the long face? Mom and Dad are back! Aren't you happy?"

I stared at him. "You knew?"

His smile faltered.

Mom quickly pulled me into a hug, coming to his defense. "Oh, sweetheart, don't blame your brother. He was young and couldn't keep a secret, and we were worried he'd be too distraught. That's why we told him about the plan before we staged the accident."

So all this time, I'd been the only one who thought we were orphans.

The whole time I worked in that freezing warehouse until I couldn't feel my hands, Cedric knew our parents were alive.

When we couldn't afford rent and had to spend our nights at a 24-hour fast-food restaurant, he'd known then, too.

Once, I even collapsed from a heart attack and begged him to get my medication. He stood there watching me break out in a cold sweat, but he never called Mom.

After all, one phone call would have brought their precious test to an early end.

Mom handed the cake to the driver and turned back to me. "You know, Cedric's had a hard time keeping this from you, too. He wanted to tell you so many times, but we wouldn't let him."

Cedric's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry, Celine. I really am. But Mom said it was the only way to know if you actually cared about me or if you were just pretending to make them happy."

I tried to speak, but the metallic taste of blood filled my throat. In the end, there was only one thing I could bring myself to ask.

"What about college?"

Mom blinked. "What do you mean?"

"My acceptance. The college I was supposed to go to four years ago."

Realization finally dawned on her face. She smiled and gave my hand a reassuring pat.

"Oh, sweetheart, that was ages ago! You're only 22. If you want to go back to school, I'll arrange everything for you. Besides, look how much you've grown these past four years. You're so much more responsible now."

I looked down at my birth certificate, my eyes settling on the name listed under "Biological Mother".

Maren Walsh.

She'd known all along that I was her daughter. She'd simply decided that convincing me I wasn't really hers would make me easier to control.

Suddenly, a sharp pain seized my chest, and I pressed a hand over my heart.

Mom noticed, her smile slipping a little. "Celine? What's wrong?"

I quickly tucked my critical condition notice farther up my sleeve. "It's nothing."

Relief washed over her face. "Oh, good. We're finally together again as a family. Don't spoil it, alright?"