Plot Twists Biological Family の短編小説 & 小説

In my first year out of college, my mother sues me over the 60 dollars a month I give her for living expenses. In court, she breaks down in tears. "She only gives me 60 dollars a month! And she makes me check in every single day before she'll hand over that day's money! "I raised her and her brother all on my own. I gave everything I had to put her through college. How can she do this to me?" Her lawyer submits printed copies of our text conversations as proof. The judge frowns as he reads through them, then passes them to me. "Defendant, are these messages authentic?" I nod calmly. "They are." The gallery erupts in whispers, people calling me ungrateful and a terrible daughter. Then, the judge bangs his gavel and orders silence. I look at my mother's smug expression and submit my own evidence. The judge's frown deepens as he reviews it. And the moment my mother sees it, the color drains from her face.

The day the exam rankings are released and I claim the top spot is also my older sister's birthday. During the birthday party, everyone asks what she wishes for. She turns her head and looks straight at my fiance, her red lips curving into a smile. "I want first place. Can you give it to me, Professor Howard?" The man lowers his eyes, saying nothing. The next day, my name disappears from the top of the rankings. After that, I fail to place five times in a row. When I confront my fiance, he simply hands me a slice of sponge cake and says, "Your sister has it hard. If she can't place first at Imperial Academy five consecutive times, she'll be forced into an arranged marriage with that crippled prince. As for you, you'll have other chances in the future." What he doesn't know is that I have no future left to wait for. As an illegitimate daughter, my engagement only exists because my mother sacrificed her life to secure it for me. Now, my mother is gone. And because my sister falls in love with my fiance, she makes my life miserable. To keep up appearances, my father allows my sister to propose a wager before the family council. If she can remain the academy's top-ranked student for five consecutive years, she will be allowed to take my place in the marriage. For that reason, I study by candlelight night after night, terrified of losing my fiance. But now, I rub the thick calluses on my palms. With a bitter laugh, I accept my fate.

At the university Ball, Ada ripped my necklace from my throat in front of everyone. Emeralds skittered across the floor. She planted her hand on her hip and jabbed a finger in my face. "Elena, you thief! How dare you steal my necklace? My brothers had it custom-made for me. You had no right to touch their gift!" The ballroom went silent. Her favorite lackey, Louise Parker, swept toward me with her chin high. "Ada is the Costa brothers' little sister. You're dead this time!" A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. "The Costa family? The one that controls the weapons pipeline along the entire Eastern Seaboard?" "Everyone knows the three Costa brothers guard their sister like their lives depend on it. The last guy who tried to get close to her supposedly had his arms and legs cut off before they threw him into an underground fighting pit full of starving wolves." "She's really their sister? Elena is in serious trouble this time!" I stared at the emeralds scattered across the floor, and a disbelieving laugh escaped me. The Costa brothers did have a cherished younger sister. That was me, Elena Costa.

My adopted sister, Bianca, screwed up. Big time. It was at a charity dinner. Hosted by the Vitiellos. The most powerful Mafia Family on the East Coast. She spilled hot coffee on the Vitiello boss's sister. Right into her eyes. Almost blinded her. Massimo went ballistic. He’s the cold-blooded Don who runs the whole damn coast. He wanted a hostage from our family, the Costas. Within five days. Or it was war. My mother grabbed my hands. Her eyes were red and filled with pain. “Bianca didn’t mean it. She’s terrified. She’s hiding in her room, shaking so hard she can’t breathe. Valeria, you're tough. You can survive this. Just go to Massimo for a few days. I swear I'll get you back.” My twin brother sighed. “That Don is a psycho. Bianca is too delicate. She wouldn’t last a day. You’ve always been the strong one. Just… do this for her.” Even my fiancé, the man I’ve been engaged to for years, held me. He whispered, “Baby, just take the heat for her. Once this all blows over, I’ll give you the biggest wedding you’ve ever dreamed of.” What a joke. I wasn’t even at the party. But I was the one paying the price. So I gave them what they wanted. I walked right into the Vitiello estate. And then they regretted it. They cried, and begged me to come back.

The day my fated mate, Blake, held his mating ceremony with the pack’s true princess, Morgana, I almost did it. I almost chugged a vial of rage serum, stormed the altar, and tore them both to shreds. A murder-suicide. A fitting end. But as my hand trembled around the vial, my phone rang. It was the doctor from the Alliance Medical Center. "Ma'am, you're pregnant..." The vial slipped from my fingers. I froze. Half an hour later, cheers erupted from the pack's Moonlight Altar. And just like that, I, the fake princess of the Crescent Moon pack, vanished from Silvercrest City. Just as everyone wanted. I fled a thousand miles to the Southern Alliance. I survived a rogue wolf riot and gave birth to my daughter. My own blood. My old life was completely gone. But four years later, they started showing up again, one by one. “Cora, we’ve been looking for you for years. You’re alive? Why didn’t you come home?”

A real heir who boasted of having watched 500 short dramas about real and fake heirs came to live with my family. He developed a high fever that wouldn't break during a torrential downpour on his very first night with us, earning endless sympathy from our parents. "I know every trope in those short dramas like the back of my hand. How could a villainous side character like you, who does nothing but throw tantrums, possibly be a match for me?" he bragged. After that, he drove the butler who had cared for me since I was a child back to the countryside. He also turned my closest cousin against me, so much so that my cousin slapped me in front of everyone. He trampled all over my dignity and became the apple of my family's eye within a year. He was just as dismissive when I got engaged to the young heiress from Kingsbridge. "It'll be easy for me to make her hate you. All I need to do is pull one little trick. You'll see!" During the engagement party, he pulled me toward the stairs and started shrieking, intending to accuse me of pushing him down the stairs. However, the triumphant look on his face morphed into shock when he lunged forward. He blurted angrily, "Are you kidding me? Who has a staircase painted on the floor?"

After my parents moved into their new house, they kept refusing to let me see it ahead of time. It wasn't until Labor Day that my mother, Gloria Grant, finally sent me the address, being all mysterious about it. Mom: [Allie, come home, quick! This year, the five of us are spending our first Labor Day together in the new house.] I hurried over with a box of pumpkin tarts in hand. In the entryway, four pairs of custom-made slippers sat in a neat row. There was gray for my father, Martin Grant, and off-white for Mom. My older brother, Fred Grant, and my younger sister, Lily Grant, each had a pair too. I looked down and searched for a long time before Mom finally dug a pair of disposable hotel slippers out from the bottom of the shoe cabinet. "I forgot to have a pair made for you. You hardly ever come home anyway, so it doesn't matter what you wear." I said nothing, not until Lily excitedly dragged me off to tour the rooms. She had a walk-in closet, and Fred had a gaming room. Even the space by the balcony had been partitioned off into a tea room just for Dad. I came to the last door. Inside was a folding bed. Mom smiled. "This is the guest room. You'll stay here whenever you come back." I stood there, stunned, for a long time. So when they moved, they hadn't simply forgotten to ask which room I wanted. From the very beginning, it had never occurred to them that this home needed a room for me. At dinner that night, Dad raised his glass. "From now on, our family finally has a real home." I smiled and clinked glasses with everyone too. But under the table, I quietly withdrew from the job that would have kept me in the city and accepted a position twelve hundred miles away. They had already moved into their new home. It was time I went to find mine.

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl. To make their newly adopted sister happy, Matthew gave her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the dog that had grown up with me because she was allergic, and William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset. I didn't say another word. I just packed my bags and left. They all thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days. My three brothers canceled their busy work schedules to take the orphan girl abroad to relax her nerves. They went to see the Northern Lights in Alaska – the place I had always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned from their vacation, they suddenly learned that I had volunteered for a twenty-year medical research mission in a remote frontier. I would never be coming home again. That night, they fell apart.

When I was fifteen, my father brought home the daughter of the man who had once saved his life. He told me, "Stella, Hazel is your sister now. You need to be more understanding with her." From that day on, everything I had became something my father could freely give to Hazel. I cried and asked him if he no longer loved me. But he stroked my head and reassured me, "I am only doing this to repay a debt. Don't worry. I'll leave all my assets and the company to you." It was not until I graduated from college that I happened to overhear Hazel sweet-talking my father. "Dad, I like Julian. Could you get Stella to break off her engagement with him and let me have him? "Besides, Stella didn't study business management in college. Why don't you let me join the company and help out? I could take some of the burden off your shoulders." I clenched my fists, anger churning in my chest. For all these years, I had given in to her again and again. And now she wanted to take not only my fiance, but my inheritance as well?

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

My twin sister, Rebecca Shaffer, was kidnapped while saving me. The trauma left her with a mental illness that made her lash out at everyone around her. The only person who could get close to her, the only one who could calm her down, was my husband, Ezekiel Roberts. For the sake of her recovery, my parents insisted that Rebecca move into the master bedroom of my newlywed home. Whenever Ezekiel and I were intimate, Rebecca would lose control and throw things at me. Then, Ezekiel would scoop her up in his arms and carry her into the bedroom, soothing her with gentle words. Everyone kept telling me the same thing. "If Rebecca hadn't tried to save you, she wouldn't be like this now. You owe her this much!" I had no response to that, so I gave in again and again. That was, until I accidentally overheard a conversation between Rebecca and my parents. "How much longer do I have to keep pretending to be crazy? I'm so sick of sneaking around like this!" My parents looked at her with sympathy in their eyes. Ezekiel gently caressed her stomach and said, "Don't worry. I won't let Rebecca or the baby suffer even a little bit. Once I have Maisie completely under my control, I'll make everything public." I clutched the pregnancy test report in my hand and let out a bitter laugh. From now on, they would not need to keep up their elaborate charade. I would leave on my own.

“Mr. Mike Atkinson, the payment on your loan is past due.” The collection agent spoke in a flat voice, as though she were reading out just another routine notice. However, I had never taken out a loan in my life. After pressing her for details, I learned that my parents had used my personal information and credit history to take out a loan in my name for my younger brother. They had forged my signature on every document. I did not immediately drive back to my parents’ house and confront them. I left the family group chat. I returned to my small apartment and spent a long time thinking about what to do. When I finally called home, my mother burst into tears and berated me. “You’re his older brother. What’s wrong with taking on a little debt for him?” I ended the call, switched my phone to silent mode, and stared out at the night. I had nothing more to say to her.

In the third year after I've run away from home, my parents finally remember my existence. But the reason is that the fake heir, Jayson Norman, is displeased with his marriage partner in the upcoming marriage alliance. That's why my parents instantly think of getting me to replace Jayson in the marriage. When Mom sees Katrina Cobb, the woman whom I've eloped with, rummaging through the trash in a wheelchair, she feels extremely satisfied. "Back then, Joshua refused to stick to his role as the heir of the Norman family. He even went as far as to push Jayson down the stairs just so he could elope with this wretched woman! I bet he must be riddled with remorse by now!" With hazy eyes, Katrina mutters, "Yeah, he was filled with remorse. He regretted going back to that place you call 'home' with you." Dad lets out a cold huff. "Well, that's enough tantrum on his part! Tell him to get his ass home for the marriage alliance, and we'll consider the past water under the bridge!" Having noted Katrina's silence, Dad wastes no time in kicking her wheelchair over. "You wretched cripple! Where have you hidden my son?" I can only float in mid-air as I gaze down at Katrina, who's wailing in pain on the ground. At that moment, I feel as though my soul is getting ripped apart. "Mom, Dad, I've been dead for three years. How am I going to take Jayson's place in this marriage alliance?"

I was separated from my parents when I was young and grew up in foster care. I don't pick up on hints. I say what I mean. At boarding school, an older girl shoved contraband tobacco into my drawer. "Keep it in here for now. They won't expel an underclassman." I turned around, walked to the headmaster's office, and reported her. Later, when I was working at a fast-food place, my shift lead handed me spoiled cheese. "Slip it into a burger before anyone notices. It won't kill them." I shoved the cheese straight into his mouth. "If it won't kill anyone, why aren't you eating it?" Then, when I was twenty, my birth parents brought me back to the Warren estate and later threw me a belated homecoming dinner. At the dinner, Diana, their adopted daughter, ignored my place card and took the seat at the center of the long table. She held her glass of champagne and looked at me innocently. "Sylvia, I'm so used to sitting between Mom and Dad. You don't mind, do you?" Everyone waited for me to smile politely and sit somewhere else. I asked her seriously, "Why would you think I'd mind? Because that's my seat?" She bit her lip, and her eyes started to turn red. I kept going. "So it is my seat. "Then shouldn't you be getting up?"

After four years of marriage, I was finally pregnant. I was so excited that I called my mom right away to tell her. Her voice came through the phone ice-cold. "You can't keep this baby! Go get rid of it tomorrow!" I thought I had heard her wrong. "What?" She stayed perfectly calm. "Your brother is still in college. This isn't the time for you to get pregnant. If you have a baby, how are you supposed to support your brother? "Your career is going great right now. Work and save up for a few more years. Once your brother graduates, gets a job, and buys a house, it won't be too late to have a kid then." I was stunned, and the words flew out before I could stop them. "I'm not getting rid of it!" Mom exploded. "That baby is a Garrison! Your brother is the one who carries on the Abbott name! Had you sacrificed his future for some Garrison kid? Don't you forget whose name you were born with!" When my brother was in elementary school, I helped him with his homework. When he was in middle school, I worked a part-time job to buy him designer sneakers. When he went to college, I gave him 1,000 dollars a month for living expenses. Now, I was pregnant with a child of my own, and I was still expected to step aside for my brother's future? I was so furious that I actually laughed. Fine. If that was how it was going to be, I would cut them off for good. I hung up and took them off every shared account and authorized user card in my name.

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

My sister and I got into a car crash. My heart was ruptured, and I needed immediate surgery if I were to live. My mother, being the director of her hospital, sent all the doctors to my sister instead, all just to check on her. She barely got hurt. I pleaded and begged for my mother to save me, but impatience got the better of her. She roared, "This isn't the time to take any attention away from your sister! She almost had a bone fracture!" And I died. I remember where it was. It was a freezing operating theater.

My mother always says, "Children are like little tree branches. If you don't prune them, they'll grow crooked." I'm the tree that's been pruned until nothing but the trunk remains. Ever since I was five, I've been told not to laugh when I'm happy because it means I'm getting carried away with myself. I'm not allowed to cry when someone bullies me because, as my mother says, "There is no smoke without fire." In other words, if I'm being bullied, I must have done something to deserve it. When I score 98 on a test, my parents only ask, "How did you lose those two points? Did you get complacent and make mistakes?" When relatives praise me for being well-behaved, my parents interrupt them in front of everyone and say, "She's just putting on an act. She's an absolute lazy bum at home. Don't let her fool you." Over time, I learn to bury every emotion deep inside and turn myself into the perfect creation my parents want me to be.

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."

At the hockey game, my neighbor Bianca confessed her feelings to the team captain, Hudson, right in front of everyone. The moment she finished speaking, someone dumped an ice-cold soda right over her head. "Look at this greasy freak. Does she really think she has a chance with our star player?" The bleachers instantly erupted into cruel laughter. I watched her soaked hair stick to her face as tears mixed with the dripping soda. I walked over and shielded her from the cruel jokes. Then I pushed through the crowd and offered her a tissue. She slapped my hand away. "Stop being so fake, Harper! You're the biggest hypocrite in this school!" The next morning, I woke up and realized I was in Bianca's body. Before I could process it, my phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from Bianca from my own account. On the screen, wearing my face, she gave a smug smile. "I paid a witch a fortune to swap our bodies." "Now it's your turn to see what it feels like to be a loser everyone steps on." "Your life as a top model is mine now. As for Hudson and his insane abs, I'm keeping them for myself!" I hung up, stared at myself in the mirror, and smiled. I finally escaped the toxic mother who was draining the life out of me. I was also totally free from that cheating jerk who only played games with my heart. This idiot had no idea what kind of nightmare was hiding beneath my supposedly flawless skin.