Not long after the Hilton family left, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled into the orphanage driveway. Sister Anne was still fuming about losing Olivia when she emerged to greet the visitor. Her anger vanished instantly at the sight of the woman stepping out of the car. Four men in dark suits immediately surrounded her.
The woman was breathtaking, but what made Sister Anne's heart stop and caused her breath to catch in her throat were her eyes—one green, one blue. "I'm looking for a child my father left in this orphanage fourteen years ago," the woman's voice was soft but commanding. Her perfectly manicured fingers brushed a strand of dark hair from her face. "My daughter wore a locket. She also has a mole on her back." Sister Anne's face drained of color. She had seen that mark on Olivia once when she changed her clothes. She also recalled seeing her wearing an old necklace, which she had thought was ugly, but now, considering its value, she no longer thought of it that way. "This is for the orphanage," the woman continued. One of her guards stepped forward with a briefcase. "For taking care of my daughter. I hope this will be enough." She opened the briefcase, and Sister Anne felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of the stacks of cash neatly bundled inside. It was an unimaginable sum, one that could transform the orphanage and ensure that children would not starve for a decade. "My daughter will be taken care of by me from now on. I'll provide only the best education, the finest opportunities, everything I couldn't give her before." Sister Anne's hands trembled as she accepted the briefcase. Olivia was gone, taken by the Hiltons just hours ago. But Sarah, her sweet Sarah, had no one. This could be her only opportunity for a better life. "Please wait here; I'll get your daughter," Sister Anne said. She hurried to Sarah's room, finding the girl crying, unable to accept that Olivia had been taken from the orphanage before her. "Sarah," she said, wiping the tears from the child's cheeks. "Listen carefully. From now on, you will have a family of your own. They're rich, wealthier than the Hiltons. They will provide you with a bright future. But never... never mention Olivia ever again." Sarah's eyes widened; she didn't understand but nodded. She had learned long ago to follow Sister Anne's lead. When Sister Anne presented Sarah to the woman, she showed the mole on the child's back. "This is your daughter. Her name is Sarah." "You've grown so beautiful," the woman cried, hugging Sarah close. "I've looked for you for years... I-I thought I would never see you again." When her emotions calmed down a bit, she pulled back and wiped the tears on her cheeks. "Where's the necklace father gave you?" she asked. Sister Anne immediately spoke before the child could reply, "The necklace was stolen years ago, I'm afraid. We had a break-in, and several valuable items were taken." The lie flowed easily from her lips. "It's alright," the woman's face softened. "That necklace is old anyway. I'll get my daughter new jewelry, the finest pieces that everyone would envy." The woman turned to the child. "Let's go home, Sarah. We'll have a flight to the US first thing in the morning." "We should get her things," Sister Anne said, "her clothes and—" "No. She needs nothing from here. I want to give her a fresh start, a new life." She brushed Sarah's hair tenderly and continued, "Everything in this place would only remind her of... difficult times. We'll buy her a whole new wardrobe." "Thank you for everything, Sister. The money... use it well. Help other children find their way." Sister Anne watched as the guards escorted them to the Rolls-Royce. Sarah glanced back once, her face still puzzled, but there was a smile on her lips. Sister Anne forced herself to smile back, even as her heart crumbled. The engine purred to life, and the expensive car rolled down the driveway, taking with it a child who wasn't who she claimed to be, leaving behind a secret that would haunt Sister Anne forever. She felt guilt weighing on her chest. But she set that feeling aside and told herself it was for the best. Sarah would have everything she deserved—wealth, education, love. "Forgive me, my daughter," she whispered, watching the car until it disappeared from view. Tears drifted down her cheeks. — Olivia settled into her new home with the Hilton family, but it didn't feel like home at all. It felt like walking into someone else's life. Mrs. Hilton insisted on dressing her in Caroline's old clothes. Beautiful dresses that were too big for her thin frame, shoes that were two sizes bigger than her shoe size. The worst part was her hair. Every morning, Mrs. Hilton would brush Olivia's long dark hair until it shone, then braid it exactly the way Caroline liked. "Caroline," they would call her sometimes, especially when they weren't really looking at her. "Caroline, sit up straight." "Caroline, remember your manners." Each time they said that name, she wanted to remind them that she was Olivia, that Caroline was gone. But She couldn't voice her thoughts, she couldn't complain. After all, she was indebted to them for saving her from the orphanage that had cruelly treated her for years. "Clayton Bradford will be coming tonight," Mr. Hilton said while they were having lunch. Olivia's temples scrunched into a frown. It was the first time she had heard the name. Mrs. Hilton dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Clayton is from one of the most prestigious families in the country. His father Grey Bradford is a wealthy businessman. His mother Lily Bradford owns a chain of hotels and restaurants worldwide. Clayton and Caroline were arranged to get married. Clayton liked Caroline a lot.” "He's eighteen now," Mr. Hilton added, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Already running several of his family's businesses. But I heard he's trying to convince his father to join the military." Mr. Hilton turned to his wife. "Is it okay for him to meet Olivia?" Mrs. Hilton shrugged. "Why not? Olivia's going to be his wife anyway when she turns a rightful age." Olivia dropped her spoon. But her adoptive parents didn't seem to notice. Four years. Her future husband was four years older than her. And he had been in love with Caroline. Olivia pushed her food around the plate, no longer hungry. "May I be excused?" she asked politely. Her adoptive mother lifted a hand, signaling she could leave and didn't even look at her. Olivia slowly made her way out of the dining area. When she was out of sight she dashed into her room. In the hallway, a deep voice called out, "Caroline!" Olivia looked at the man and swore he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. Her fourteen-year-old heart was jolted for the very first time." "I thought I would never see you again." The longing in his voice was evident when he pulled her into his arms. His chest was warm against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating fast. This was how it felt to be held by someone who loved you, she thought. But the beautiful moment shattered when she lifted her face. Clayton's dark eyes met hers and his arms dropped away as if she burned him. The hate in his eyes was something she hadn't seen on anyone before. Not even on Asher while he pinned her back with his knee or on Sarah while she hold her head in the dirty puddle "I-I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down on the floor. Clayton's hands, which had held her so tenderly moments ago thinking she was Caroline, were now balled into fists at his sides. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Olivia," she answered softly. "The Hiltons adopted me from Saint Therese Orphanage." A harsh laugh escaped his throat "Caroline's been gone barely a year and they've already found someone to take her place?" "Look at me," He commanded. When she didn't, his hand caught her chin, forcing her face up. His touch wasn't gentle anymore. "Those eyes..." he muttered. "Caroline had the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen. But you... what are you? Some kind of freak?.You are crazy if you think you could ever replace her.” He straightened his jacket and walked past her as if she were invisible. Olivia waited until his footsteps faded before she ran to her room - no, Caroline's room. Everything in it still belonged to her, the room, the clothes and shoes, and even Clayton, her future husband. She removed Caroline's too-big clothes and changed back into her pink patched dress. She slumped onto the floor and cried. Somewhere in her heart, she knew this was just the beginning of her nightmare.Four years had passed, and time had worked its strange magic. Olivia's eyes, which had once made her a target of cruel bullying at the orphanage and caused Clayton Bradford to call her a freak, had become her most striking feature. At seventeen, Olivia walked the halls of Cordova Academy with a grace that turned heads. Her mismatched eyes—one as green as spring leaves, the other as blue as a summer sky—had become an attraction. Boys stumbled over their words when she passed by in the hallways, and the art students begged to paint her portrait. In photography class, Olivia became the most requested model. The photography teacher, Ms. Shanon, called her "a work of art." Girls who once would have mocked her features back in freshman year now visited expensive boutiques, searching for colored contact lenses to mimic her look. But none could replicate the natural beauty she possessed. When prom season arrived, her locker overflowed with invitations. The football captain, a famous polit
After the graduation ceremony, the Hiltons held a party for Olivia, and the whole graduating class was invited. Mrs. Hilton raised her crystal glass high in the air and made a toast, "For my daughter who graduated at the top of her class and whose awards and certificates could fill this room like wallpaper. Congratulations." Her adoptive mother was looking right at Olivia but seeing past her. In her mind, she was congratulating another child who no longer existed. Olivia hid her pain behind a smile, the same one she’d worn for years, which no one seemed to look at closely enough to notice the cracks beneath. Everyone raised their glasses. She raised hers too, congratulating herself not for her achievements but for being strong enough to keep living this ‘bullshit of a life’ with a smile on her face. Throughout the night, people kept coming up to her. She faced everyone with a smile until her jaw hurt. It was halfway through the party when she realized Clayton wasn't there. She
Olivia arrived late because her car broke down in the middle of the road. It took the auto repair shop personnel thirty minutes to arrive and tow her vehicle. She took a cab to the Bradford Estate. The party was in full swing when she entered. The music was loud enough to break her eardrums, and the scent of alcohol and smoke wafted through the air. She had attended various parties before, but this one was different. People were everywhere, shouting and laughing. A woman in jeans stood on a table, finishing a beer mug. Two bare-chested guys were doing a sexy dance while the surrounding group cheered. For the first time in Olivia's life, she didn't mind the noise. The sound was a lullaby that soothed her soul, making her forget that her life was a mess. Here, she could be herself, drink to her heart's desire—although she hadn’t done that before. She could even dance if she wanted to. She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hellos and waves from strangers. Clayton was easy to s
“CODE RED. CODE RED. DR. HILTON TO EMERGENCY.”Olivia's butt barely touched her office chair when the loud voice boomed through the ceiling speakers. "Not now," she whispered, pushing herself up, regret in her blue and green eyes as she eyed her Starluxe coffee.Today was particularly grueling. This morning, she had spent countless hours assisting Dr. Wilson, the expert neurosurgeon, who performed three separate surgeries, one of which was a complex spinal tumor removal that lasted five hours. Her feet ached in her sensible shoes, and all she wanted was five minutes to sit down and drink the coffee that was now going cold on her desk.The emergency department was two floors down, and even though the elevator would be faster, she took the stairs. Too many times she'd been stuck in a slow elevator during an emergency.She practically sprinted through the hallway in an unladylike manner that would make Mrs. Hilton faint in horror if she saw her.Slightly out of breath, the familiar chaos
"Witch! Look at her weird eyes!" The shouts rang across the rain-swept yard of St. Therese Orphanage. Fourteen-year-old Olivia quickened her steps and pretended not to hear a word. "Freak with the devil's eyes!" Asher, the oldest boy, yelled from behind her. He was sixteen and mean as an ogre; teasing her was his favorite pastime. Olivia kept her head down, watching her worn-out shoes make tracks in the mud, one foot after another. Just make it to the building. Just make it inside, she repeated the words in her head like a mantra. But she wasn't fast enough. A hard shove sent her face-first into a dirty puddle. Water and mud filled her nose and mouth. The children laughed; not a single one offered help. "Show us your witch eyes!" Sarah screamed. She used to be Olivia's roommate until she told Sister Anne that she was scared Olivia would curse her in her sleep, so she was transferred to another room. Olivia lifted her face from the ground, but Asher pushed her back with his knee
“CODE RED. CODE RED. DR. HILTON TO EMERGENCY.”Olivia's butt barely touched her office chair when the loud voice boomed through the ceiling speakers. "Not now," she whispered, pushing herself up, regret in her blue and green eyes as she eyed her Starluxe coffee.Today was particularly grueling. This morning, she had spent countless hours assisting Dr. Wilson, the expert neurosurgeon, who performed three separate surgeries, one of which was a complex spinal tumor removal that lasted five hours. Her feet ached in her sensible shoes, and all she wanted was five minutes to sit down and drink the coffee that was now going cold on her desk.The emergency department was two floors down, and even though the elevator would be faster, she took the stairs. Too many times she'd been stuck in a slow elevator during an emergency.She practically sprinted through the hallway in an unladylike manner that would make Mrs. Hilton faint in horror if she saw her.Slightly out of breath, the familiar chaos
Olivia arrived late because her car broke down in the middle of the road. It took the auto repair shop personnel thirty minutes to arrive and tow her vehicle. She took a cab to the Bradford Estate. The party was in full swing when she entered. The music was loud enough to break her eardrums, and the scent of alcohol and smoke wafted through the air. She had attended various parties before, but this one was different. People were everywhere, shouting and laughing. A woman in jeans stood on a table, finishing a beer mug. Two bare-chested guys were doing a sexy dance while the surrounding group cheered. For the first time in Olivia's life, she didn't mind the noise. The sound was a lullaby that soothed her soul, making her forget that her life was a mess. Here, she could be herself, drink to her heart's desire—although she hadn’t done that before. She could even dance if she wanted to. She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hellos and waves from strangers. Clayton was easy to s
After the graduation ceremony, the Hiltons held a party for Olivia, and the whole graduating class was invited. Mrs. Hilton raised her crystal glass high in the air and made a toast, "For my daughter who graduated at the top of her class and whose awards and certificates could fill this room like wallpaper. Congratulations." Her adoptive mother was looking right at Olivia but seeing past her. In her mind, she was congratulating another child who no longer existed. Olivia hid her pain behind a smile, the same one she’d worn for years, which no one seemed to look at closely enough to notice the cracks beneath. Everyone raised their glasses. She raised hers too, congratulating herself not for her achievements but for being strong enough to keep living this ‘bullshit of a life’ with a smile on her face. Throughout the night, people kept coming up to her. She faced everyone with a smile until her jaw hurt. It was halfway through the party when she realized Clayton wasn't there. She
Four years had passed, and time had worked its strange magic. Olivia's eyes, which had once made her a target of cruel bullying at the orphanage and caused Clayton Bradford to call her a freak, had become her most striking feature. At seventeen, Olivia walked the halls of Cordova Academy with a grace that turned heads. Her mismatched eyes—one as green as spring leaves, the other as blue as a summer sky—had become an attraction. Boys stumbled over their words when she passed by in the hallways, and the art students begged to paint her portrait. In photography class, Olivia became the most requested model. The photography teacher, Ms. Shanon, called her "a work of art." Girls who once would have mocked her features back in freshman year now visited expensive boutiques, searching for colored contact lenses to mimic her look. But none could replicate the natural beauty she possessed. When prom season arrived, her locker overflowed with invitations. The football captain, a famous polit
Not long after the Hilton family left, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled into the orphanage driveway. Sister Anne was still fuming about losing Olivia when she emerged to greet the visitor. Her anger vanished instantly at the sight of the woman stepping out of the car. Four men in dark suits immediately surrounded her. The woman was breathtaking, but what made Sister Anne's heart stop and caused her breath to catch in her throat were her eyes—one green, one blue. "I'm looking for a child my father left in this orphanage fourteen years ago," the woman's voice was soft but commanding. Her perfectly manicured fingers brushed a strand of dark hair from her face. "My daughter wore a locket. She also has a mole on her back." Sister Anne's face drained of color. She had seen that mark on Olivia once when she changed her clothes. She also recalled seeing her wearing an old necklace, which she had thought was ugly, but now, considering its value, she no longer thought of it that way. "This
"Witch! Look at her weird eyes!" The shouts rang across the rain-swept yard of St. Therese Orphanage. Fourteen-year-old Olivia quickened her steps and pretended not to hear a word. "Freak with the devil's eyes!" Asher, the oldest boy, yelled from behind her. He was sixteen and mean as an ogre; teasing her was his favorite pastime. Olivia kept her head down, watching her worn-out shoes make tracks in the mud, one foot after another. Just make it to the building. Just make it inside, she repeated the words in her head like a mantra. But she wasn't fast enough. A hard shove sent her face-first into a dirty puddle. Water and mud filled her nose and mouth. The children laughed; not a single one offered help. "Show us your witch eyes!" Sarah screamed. She used to be Olivia's roommate until she told Sister Anne that she was scared Olivia would curse her in her sleep, so she was transferred to another room. Olivia lifted her face from the ground, but Asher pushed her back with his knee