After the True Heiress Dies

The day Suzanne Nilson returned was my birthday. I had put on the beautiful dress that my mom had bought for me, and I was waiting at home for my parents to take me out to celebrate the occasion.

When Mom came back the first thing she did was slap a paternity test in my face. "Look at this yourself, Sophia!"

I stumbled backward a few steps from the force. When I looked down, I saw blood dripping from my nose.

I thought of the health report that I'd just received yesterday.

Mom had never lost her temper at me before, because I was the daughter that she had prayed for.

She always said that even showering me with affection wasn't enough to show her love for me.

Therefore, I did not expect her to treat me like that. I was stunned.

The blood dripping from my nose stained my dress and the report.

Mom slapped me. "Go away! Don't let your filthy blood stain anything related to Suzie!

"Also, take off that dress at once! I bought that for my daughter's birthday, not for you!"

I collapsed heavily onto the ground. Looking up, I finally saw the contents of the paper.

I didn't understand most of the technical terms, but I understood the last line: Results show that Gordon Nilson is Suzanne Nilson's biological father.

Suzanne stood not too far away, arm-in-arm with Dad. Mom's back was to her, so she didn't see her smile sinisterly.

Then, she feigned a mental breakdown, screaming as she slumped to the ground, "Throw her out! Throw her out now!"

Mom rushed over to hold her, heartbroken by the sight. As Suzanne struggled, she deliberately exposed her forearm which was covered with bruises and cigarette burns.

Mom teared up. She pulled Suzanne into her arms, just like she used to when comforting me in the past, and patted her on the back. "I'm here. Mom's here," she said softly.

Dazedly, I seemed to return to the past. Back then, Mom used to put me to bed with the same comforting voice at night.

I reached up and wiped off the blood. I tried to get to my feet, but Dad kicked me back down.

He was breathing heavily, his face full of anger. "I heard that you bullied Suzie when you were in school. You imposter, how dare you bully my daughter!"

The three of them loomed over me, casting shadows so deep that I felt suffocated. Gripping the hem of my dress tightly, I protested weakly, "I didn't! I don't even know her!"

No one believed me.

Mom glared at me viciously. "We looked into it. You went to the same high school as Suzanne. You're a liar!

"You've taken Suzanne's place for so many years, living a good life, while she suffered in your place. Look at all these wounds. Do you really think you're innocent?"

I wanted to argue that I had only been a baby when the swap happened. Even if there was a mix-up, it wouldn't be my fault.

Mom used to love me so much. Was all that love just a lie?

That was impossible!

I remembered my health report again. Maybe if she saw the report, she would feel some love for me again.

Desperately, I scrambled, searching frantically like the report was my final hope.

However, Mom's words shattered any hope I had. "I wish you would just die, Sophia Nilson."

I froze. My searching hands stopped.

Mom dialed a number on her phone as she gave me a disgusted look. "I'm calling your useless biological parents to come pick you up right now.

"The longer you stay here, the harder it is to hold back from disfiguring you. I've seen you as my daughter for long enough. I don't want to part in such an awful way either."

I let go of the health report I had found and touched my face unconsciously.

A lot of people said that I looked a lot like Mom when she was younger. But while Mom had been a fiery spirit, I was more of a gentle soul.

Mom always used to say that my temper was nothing like hers. It turned out that we weren't even related biologically.

However, I still wanted to make one last effort.

Cautiously, I reached out to tug on Mom's trouser leg. "Mom, why don't we do another test? What if I really am your daughter?"

I looked so much like her; didn't she have any doubts about that?

However, Mom stepped back, avoiding my touch. "Don't get your blood on me," she said in disdain. "You're filthy."