003

Nancy led Clara into the inner room a bit nervously, lifting the old but clean curtain. "Clara, this is your dad."

Then she turned to the man lying in bed and added gently, "Honey, this is our daughter... Clara."

The dim light flickered softly, casting shadows over the thin man propped against the bedframe, a light blanket covering his lower body. His face was pale, but his eyes—despite the years of illness—were unexpectedly clear. The moment he laid eyes on Clara, a light sparked in them. "Good... You're back, that's all that matters. Sorry I look like this, hope I didn't scare you."

Clara's heart clenched a little at his plain, heartfelt words.

Without any hesitation, she walked up and sat by the bed.

"Dad," she said naturally, like she'd called him that a thousand times before. "Can I take a look at your leg? I've studied a bit of medicine."

Her words left everyone momentarily stunned—Sean, her father; Nancy; and even her older siblings: Michael, David, and Emily, who'd just gotten home.

"You know medicine?" Michael blinked at her, looking truly surprised.

Clara didn't give too much explanation. Instead, she carefully pulled the blanket aside, fingers moving confidently over Sean's leg, pressing certain acupuncture points near the knee and thigh.

She focused hard, gauging the atrophy and blockage in his muscles and meridians. Her brows gently furrowed.

Sean suddenly felt what hadn't happened in years—a faint prickling heat creeping into his numb leg from where her fingers touched. There was actual sensation!

His voice trembled with excitement. "I... I can feel something! Clara, I think I can feel my leg again!"

Nancy gasped and brought her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

David, always the straightforward one, slapped his thigh in joy. "This is awesome! Dad! Clara's amazing! Your leg's got hope now!"

Emily, the gentle and attentive one, rushed to hand Clara a glass of water. Her eyes were red as she said, "Clara, you must be tired. Drink something first. You're incredible."

The whole Howard family was filled with a warmth Clara had never known in her eighteen years living with the Bennetts. That night, they had dinner together.

"Clara, try this—Mom fried you an egg in bacon grease. She figured you'd want something warm after the trip."

Emily gently set the plate in front of her. The egg was soft and golden, with just a bit of shine from the grease. She herself only had a piece of stale cornbread and a mug of weak tea.

Her jumpsuit had clearly been washed too many times, but her eyes sparkled as she looked at Clara, filled with sincere joy.

Michael grinned sheepishly and handed Clara something wrapped in newspaper from behind his back. "Here. I saw this at a bookstore earlier. Heard every college student uses one of these."

Clara opened it and found a brand-new fountain pen inside.

She could tell Michael must've skipped lunch several times just to buy it.

"Thanks, Michael," Clara said, taking the pen, her heart warming with emotion.

David chomped down on a chunk of cornbread, banged his chest, and said, "Clara, if anyone at school gives you trouble, just holler at me! I'll set them straight!"

Even though he was just doing temp work at a gaming company, he was fiery when it came to protecting his family.

Their mom, Nancy, looked at her kids chatting and laughing around the table. Her eyes welled up again. "Our Clara's the first college student our family's ever had! Don't worry, sweetheart, even if I have to sell everything we got, I'll make sure you graduate."

Clara's heart, scarred by the Bennetts' cruelty, was slowly starting to mend.

So... this is what real family feels like?

No scheming, no pretending to be someone you're not. Just pure love, all-in, just because you're one of them.

Rachel, do you even realize what kind of treasure you tossed aside?

Clara thought back to her previous life—how she gave her all to help the Bennetts rise from a near-bankrupt company to an industry rising star.

And what had they given her in return? Misery.

That fury in her chest flared up again. She grabbed her phone and made a call.

"Hey, boss, what's up?"

"Effective immediately, pull the plug on all collaborations with Bennett Corp."

"Yes, ma'am! Finally! We've been losing money for years just to keep those leeches going! Damn Robert treats us like his personal ATM! Always with that stuck-up attitude! Who does he think he is anyway..."

As she ended the call, Clara's eyes were icy cold.

If she had the power to lift the Bennetts up, she sure as hell had the power to bring them crashing down.

Just wait. Their good days are over.

Meanwhile, back at the Bennetts' flashy villa...

The real Bennett daughter—well, now technically Rachel Bennett—was standing stiffly on the spotless marble floor, totally overwhelmed by the glamour around her.

Crystal chandeliers, a spiral staircase, designer rugs... stuff she'd only ever seen on TV.

"Rachel, from now on, this is your home. Mommy's going to give you everything you deserve," Vivian said, holding her hand with a smug satisfaction, as if doing her a favor. "You're now our Bennett heiress. Those cheap clothes? Not worthy of you anymore."

Robert actually cracked a rare smile and pointed upstairs. "Your room's ready. Go see if you like it."

When Rachel walked into the bedroom—a total princess dream complete with a walk-in closet and a huge private bathroom—she just about passed out from excitement.

The walk-in closet was overflowing with dresses and gowns—she couldn't name most of them, but just one glance made it obvious they cost a fortune.

Rachel ran her fingers over the smooth silk, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The luxurious fabric framed her figure perfectly, and satisfaction along with a burst of vanity instantly washed over her.

Images of the Howard family's cramped and damp little home flashed through her mind, along with the memory of Nancy wearing those faded, over-washed clothes. Disgust rose bitterly in her throat.

There was no way she was going back to that shabby place. Those people? Not good enough to be called her family.

Rachel Bennett was meant for this kind of life—elegant, high-class, unattainable.

Giving Robert and Vivian a sweet, obedient smile tinged with flattery, she said, "Thank you, Mom and Dad. I love it. I never even dared dream of a life like this before."

Seeing her so grateful and soft-spoken, Robert and Vivian exchanged a look. The frustration they'd felt over Clara's abrupt departure eased just a little.

Their biological daughter might not be dazzling, but at least she was manageable.

But that little happiness didn't last long.

The very next day after Rachel's return, Robert got a string of devastating phone calls.

"What? Trivora Group cut off all cooperation? Just like that?"

He was in disbelief, rubbing his temples as he tried to make sense of it.

Trivora Group had been crucial to their rapid growth over the past few years—out of nowhere, the massive company had taken a liking to their small, obscure firm and had poured in resources and connections like no tomorrow. That was the only reason they'd climbed as high as they had.

But now, without a single warning, their biggest backer bailed on them. How could he not panic?

He called everyone he could think of one after another, but it was all bad news.

Investors were pulling out. Banks were breathing down their necks. Several deals they were on the verge of closing were collapsing on the spot...

It was like the entire Bennett business empire was suddenly on the verge of crashing down overnight.

In desperation, he tried to pull strings and reach Trivora Group's higher-ups.

Finally, he got a reply—just one cold, cutting line:

"Our CEO says Trivora doesn't do business with people who betray trust."

Betray trust?

Robert was stunned. What had he done recently that could be called betrayal?

Other than bringing back his real daughter and pushing Clara out...

Could it be...

A ridiculous and terrifying thought crept into his mind.

Could this all be because of Clara?

No, that was impossible. She was just some lowly girl from the countryside—how could she possibly be connected to Trivora Group?

But then, his mind flashed back to the way Clara had looked when she left—calm, too calm.

He turned his gaze toward Rachel, who was happily admiring her new designer wardrobe, completely oblivious to the storm about to hit the family.

For the first time, deep in his heart, Robert felt a sharp stab of regret—

Had he made a huge mistake pushing out Clara... all for a biological daughter who had nothing to offer beyond hollow vanity?