My suitcase caught Chloe Hartwell squarely in the shin. She cried out and dropped to the floor, the color draining from her face.“You’re insane! You’re an outsider here — how dare you put a hand on me?”I stopped, turned, and looked down at her. “I’m the outsider?“You came into this house when your mother married my father. What gives you the right to call me anything — or to stand in my own front door?”Before I came back, my biological father, Victor Hartwell, had warned me about the stepsister waiting at home. Chloe was spoiled, he said, but not cruel. He asked me to be patient with her.Apparently he’d mistaken stupidity for innocence.Elaine Hartwell finally shook off her shock and rushed to help Chloe up, glaring at me over her daughter’s shoulder.“Of course a girl raised on the streets has no manners. Until Victor acknowledges you publicly and puts your name in the family trust, you are not a Hartwell.”Murmurs rose around us.Only then did I remember that Victor had
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