The Last Swap: My Body, Her Sacrifice

After I accidentally activated the ancestral pendant at the family reunion banquet, my sister, Ingrid Lawson, and I began swapping bodies for one day every month on the 15th.

At first, I thought this was God's way of making things up to me, so I could have a chance to experience what it felt like to be favored by our parents and respected by everyone.

To ensure that her years of effort as Lawson Corporation's successor didn't go to waste, I was always careful when I was in Ingrid's body. I didn't want one careless move to destroy the strong, capable image she'd spent years building.

But Ingrid squandered everything I'd worked so hard for while she was in my body.

Last month, I spent two straight weeks researching and putting together a flawless resort proposal. It was a challenge my father, Roy Lawson, had casually brought up at the dinner table.

I wanted to prove that I was just as good as Don Lawson, the fake heir, even though I'd been missing for over a decade.

But when I switched back into my own body, I saw that Don's name was on the proposal in the family's group chat.

Roy sent three messages, praising Don. "That's my boy. We've raised him well. His business sense is far better than certain people who don't even belong in our league."

Ingrid, who was in my body at the time, replied, "Exactly. Don is the best. I have to hand it to him."

I clenched my fists and stormed downstairs to demand an explanation.

Sitting on the couch, Ingrid poured coffee into Don's cup without looking up. "It's just a proposal. Don wanted it, so I gave it to him. So what? You're just some country bumpkin who only just came back to the family.

"Even if you gave it to our parents, they'd think you'd copied it from somewhere. Giving it to Don is the only way to get the most out of it."

I gritted my teeth, struggling to hold back my anger, then pulled my severe depression diagnosis out of my pocket.

"Ingrid, I can't sleep through the night. I've been pushing myself to prove I'm worth something. Why do you keep trampling on my dignity?"

Ingrid paused, stood up, and took the report from me. Then, she tore it into pieces, the paper fluttering to the floor around my feet.

She looked at me and laughed impatiently. "Depression? That's just your tactic to get the inheritance. Don has been frail since he was a kid. What's so hard about giving in to him?

"No wonder Mom and Dad don't like you. You're so petty. Since you can't learn to behave, let me show you how a good brother should act."

I stared at the shredded papers on the floor, feeling hopeless.

Roy and my mother, Barbara Peele, sat nearby. They didn't stop Ingrid. Instead, they nodded in agreement.

"Ingrid's right, Damon. You're too narrow-minded. You should learn from your sister and be more patient with Don."

They'd all forgotten that the trafficker had tried to take Ingrid, not me. I was the one who bit his wrist and took the hit for her.

Ingrid took the chance to run, but I was knocked unconscious and sold to someone in a remote mountain village, where I spent 15 years living in hell.

I'd taken the hit for her. And now, she resented me for getting in Don's way.