I never thought that the "swapped at birth" trope would actually happen to me. My birth parents, with the girl who’d been swapped in, found me in an alley, smoking with a bunch of tough kids, a baseball bat slung over my shoulder. They froze, all of them instinctively shielding the seemingly delicate and kind girl behind them. 1. Who would’ve thought that I, a total punk, would turn out to be the long-lost heiress of the prestigious Moonstone Group? In that dim alley, the Davies family stared at me, dressed in a school uniform but puffing on a cigarette, a bat propped against my shoulder. They instinctively reached out, sheltering the girl behind them, who was peeking at me with curious eyes. The impeccably dressed, middle-aged couple in front looked at me with disbelief, their voices trembling. “Are you Holly Summers?” I was still holding my cigarette between my lips. At their question, I stubbed it out and nodded, confused. My crew exchanged bewildered glances, not understanding what was going on. “Yo, Sly, who are these people?” Before I could answer, the elegant woman rushed forward, grabbed me, and burst into tears. “My daughter, my daughter! I’m your real mother… I’ve finally found you!” I had no idea why this woman was suddenly losing it. Even the middle-aged man’s eyes were red-rimmed. Just as I was about to push her away, a young man pursed his lips, his gaze complicated as he looked at me. “Holly Summers, hello. I’m your older brother, Brandon Davies. Seventeen years ago, your adoptive mother was our family’s housekeeper. She and our mother were pregnant and gave birth around the same time. Who knew she harbored such malicious intentions, coveting our wealth, and secretly swapped her baby with you?” Before I could even process the shock of my own parentage, I noticed something. When this young man spoke of my adoptive mother’s maliciousness and greed, the girl behind them went stark white. She bit her lip, her doe-like eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Brandon seemed to realize his blunder and quickly turned to gently comfort her. Even my supposed birth parents, who had just been clutching me tightly, instinctively let go and turned to softly console her. “Claire, don’t be scared. It’s not your fault. You and your sister are both Mommy’s and Daddy’s and Brandon’s treasures. We won’t abandon you.” Pfft, treasures? They said that to my face, to me, their actual daughter. How utterly shameless. 2. That day, under the shocked gazes of my crew, I got into a luxury car worth millions and sped off. Of course, before I left, my buddy Marcus, the loudmouth, yelled, “Sly! Remember us when you’re rich! Your boys are waiting!” I gave him a wry smile and an OK sign. Turning back, the Davies family looked at me with incredibly complex expressions. I just shrugged, indifferent. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling much. After seventeen years with my wonderful adoptive mother, to me, as long as I was alive, nothing else really mattered. As for being swapped at birth, it just meant a potentially better life for me. The girl who had been crying moments ago had stopped. Her face was etched with apology, her voice laced with guilt. “Sister, I’m Claire Davies, your… sister. I’m so sorry. I stole seventeen years of your life…” As she spoke, she looked ready to burst into tears again. My cheapskate father pursed his lips and sighed. My mother and brother immediately started coddling her again. I let out an impatient “Tsk.” I couldn’t stand people who cried at the drop of a hat. If crying actually helped, I would have bawled my eyes out countless times during the first seventeen years of my life, wishing someone would save me. “Hey, uh, Ms. Davies, can you stop crying? Do you know you’ve cried twice already since we met? You’re making it sound like you’re the one who suffered and was wronged. Can you stop stealing my spotlight? I haven’t even started crying yet.” Her weeping stopped abruptly. Her face froze, as did the Davies family. The car fell silent. I ignored them, casting my gaze out the window. The grand commercial buildings and the Pearl Tower were clearly visible in the distance. It was the first time I’d ever been this close to them. After a long pause, my good mother finally spoke. “Sylvie, I’m sorry, but your sister didn’t mean it. She’s just too innocent, too sensitive. But she really is just feeling guilty about you.” My father chimed in with a nod. And my brother, Brandon, furrowed his brow, looking at me with a mix of helplessness and faint disapproval. “Sylvie, Claire is just a little scared that we’ll abandon her now that you’re back. Please don’t be angry with her, okay? And when you get back, you really need to change your ways. Look at how you’re dressed, like a punk! And you smoke! Girls shouldn’t behave like that. Claire’s gentle and refined demeanor is what a young woman should be.” Though he tried to sound gentle, there was an unmistakable hint of command in his tone. My parents nodded in agreement, as if he had just voiced their innermost thoughts. Even Claire, the imposter, offered her “understanding” advice. “That’s right, sister. Those people aren’t good influences. You shouldn’t keep hanging out with them. I heard your grades weren’t great before; it must be because those people led you astray. When we get home, I can tutor you. I have so many clothes in my closet, you can pick whatever you like! Dad and Mom and Brandon bought them all. We can share!” Listening to her passive-aggressive, backhanded compliments, I was utterly speechless. Yet, the Davies family looked at her with even more approval, probably thinking she was kind, generous, and a perfect role model. I found it amusing and let out a scoff. Ignoring their slightly reproving stares, I simply stated, “But you know, my annual tuition and living expenses were paid for by these ‘bad influences’ you’re talking about. All of this, thanks to your wonderful mother, dear sister. And my good brother, you’re so smart, you probably wouldn’t guess why my name is Holly Summers, would you?” Everyone fell silent, their faces ashen. Even Brandon, who had been so articulate moments before, dared not meet my gaze. As for Claire, her face was flushed, her head bowed, nails digging into her palms. I smirked inwardly. A hothouse flower, even a seemingly harmless white lotus, truly thought she could win against a Venus flytrap crawled out of the abyss? 3. The first thing the Davies family did after bringing me home was to change my name. I chose it myself: Sylvie Davies. Let the world be unpredictable, full of grudges and fleeting desires. I would only ever do what pleased me. The Davies family also threw a grand celebration for my return. That night, all of the Davies’ relatives, friends, and business partners arrived. The mansion was ablaze with light. My parents, with me meticulously styled and dressed, formally introduced me on stage. My story was already well-known gossip among these elite families, so no one seemed particularly surprised. However, watching Claire mingle and chat downstairs, her expression perfectly normal, I scoffed inwardly. She was definitely plotting something. As expected, the moment I stepped off the stage, she swiftly grabbed me. “Sister, come with me. I’ll introduce you to our peers.” She smiled brightly, acting as if she had my best interests at heart. Even my mother, who had been holding my arm, chimed in approvingly. “Go on, Sylvie. Learn from your sister and see the world.” I smiled back, indifferent, and followed her. A group of young men and women, probably Claire’s childhood friends, were lounging on a sofa, openly scrutinizing me with disdain. One guy, holding a wine glass, let out a derisive “Hmph” from his nose. “Who’s this country bumpkin? Does she really think she can waltz into any circle?” Claire immediately rushed to “defend” me. “Oh, Alex, don’t give my sister a hard time. It’s her first time at a party like this. She doesn’t know much.” One of her friends pulled her aside. “Claire, you’re too kind. People are going to walk all over you.” Then she shot me a scornful glare. “Let me tell you, in our circle, we don’t care if you’re biologically related. We only respect capability. I heard you’re just a punk, always hanging out with roughnecks. Hmph. You’d better watch yourself. Don’t think you can shake Claire’s position. She’s on a different level. She’s already helping Brandon with company matters, her grades are excellent, and getting into a top university in the country after high school is a given. You should probably rein in any little schemes you have.” I listened with keen amusement as they voiced their disdain, while Claire “appropriately” spoke up for me. Once the gaggle of chattering ducks finally fell silent, I slowly spoke. “Are you done? If you’re done, go get me something to eat and a drink, and I’ll forgive you.” I lazily plopped down onto a soft sofa. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, then burst into uproarious laughter. The guy, Alex, laughed the hardest, spilling his wine. “Oh my god, I’m dying. Claire, what kind of freak is your sister? Get her food and drinks? Has she lost her mind?” Claire looked at me with a chiding expression, though I’m sure she was ecstatic on the inside. “Sylvie, how can you be so bossy?” “Why not?” I widened my eyes innocently, pulled out my phone, connected it to the big screen, and pressed play. Suddenly, the screen blared with the arrogant voices of these young men and women. “Who’s this country bumpkin?” “Heard you’re just a punk?” “You’d better watch yourself!” … No one was laughing anymore. The entire room was stunned, and the elders and important business tycoons present looked furious. The young men and women across from me were white-faced, unable to utter a single word. But the palest face, of course, belonged to my dear white lotus. My parents walked over, their faces grim, silently staring at the parents of the young men and women present. Even that obnoxious brother, Brandon, was forcing a smile, but he stood in front of me. Claire’s lips trembled. She started to explain that she had tried to stop everyone from mocking me, but failed. My parents, ever soft on her, held her hand and told her not to be scared. I curled my lips into a small, sarcastic smile. The group of people who had been so arrogant moments ago were now being dragged by their elders to stand before me, forcing smiles. “Oh, Sylvie, my brat here was just talking nonsense. Please don’t be angry. Auntie will give him a good thrashing when we get home!” “That’s right, that’s right. My daughter too. I’ll skin her alive when we get home. How dare she talk about others when she’s always at the bottom of her class!” My parents’ expressions softened slightly, and they looked at me hesitantly. “Sylvie, how about we just let it go? They’re just kids playing around.” Of course, a good, obedient child like me would agree with them. So, I looked innocently at the red-faced youths before me. “I just said it earlier. Get me something to eat and a drink, and I’ll forgive you.” This time, no one laughed. Each of them, under the watchful eyes of so many people, begrudgingly fetched me food and drinks. I sipped my orange juice, and finally, I dropped my last line. “I forgive you all! I’m a generous and good child!” Claire didn’t smile again that day, and she kept a low profile for a while afterward. Too bad. I thought she’d learned her lesson, but it turned out she was just brewing a bigger storm for me.
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