After the real heiress was brought home, I became a dirty little secret my parents couldn’t stand to look at. “You’ve been living the life my daughter deserved for eighteen years,” my mother spat, her eyes cold. “It’s time you learned what she went through.” They cut up my debit card and put me on a ten-dollar-a-day allowance. The real heiress, Victoria, started a group chat. She called it the “Daily Expense Oversight Committee.” Every single cent of that ten dollars had to be approved by her. I had to upload receipts for everything, writing a formal expense report just to buy a 50-cent packet of ramen seasoning. During the leanest month, I survived on 1-cent expiring bread I managed to snag from flash-deal apps. Until one day, a new couple showed up at the door, claiming I was their long-lost daughter. A DNA test was ordered. And what do you know? Turns out, both of us were imposters. 1 I stood in the living room, my packed suitcase at my feet. Victoria, the true heiress, was nestled between my parents on the sofa, looking perfectly at home. The moment the first DNA test confirmed I wasn’t their blood, my parents’ faces turned to ice. The warm smiles they reserved for Victoria vanished whenever they looked at me. “You’ve been living the life my daughter deserved for eighteen years,” my mother said, her voice dripping with resentment. “It’s time you learned what she went through.” “From now on, you’ll be independent,” my father added. “We will provide a ten-dollar daily allowance to support you until you graduate.” Ten dollars a day? I was so stunned, I thought I’d misheard. I looked desperately toward my brother, Michael, who was standing on the staircase landing. He met my gaze for a fraction of a second before turning and disappearing into his room. The family I’d known my whole life wouldn’t even give me a final glance. I couldn’t believe the people who had raised me for eighteen years could be so ruthless. All those warm, happy memories were gone, incinerated in an instant. My heart plummeted. “Oh, and one more thing,” my adoptive mother—no, not even that, Mrs. Crawford—added. “The costs for your upbringing, clothes, and private schooling over the years come to a little over two million dollars. You can start paying that back once you get a job.” My breath caught in my throat. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I’ll pay it back.” Victoria spoke up then, her voice sickly sweet. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you let me be in charge of distributing Lily’s allowance?” She blinked her big, innocent eyes, and my parents immediately agreed. “What a wonderful idea! You managed to save up enough to buy me a gift on ten dollars a day. You can teach her what real frugality looks like!” That night, I dragged my suitcase to the school dorm. Just as I finished unpacking, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Victoria. “Here’s today’s allowance!” Beneath the message were ten separate one-dollar money transfers. The humiliation was a physical blow. I tapped open each transfer, one by one. The ding of each dollar landing in my account was like a slap across my face. Sharp, clear, and degrading. My fingers moved mechanically across the screen. One dollar. One dollar. One dollar. After ten slaps, my balance had finally increased. Before I could recover, my phone buzzed again, frantically. Victoria had created a new group chat. The name was emblazoned across the top: “Daily Expense Oversight Committee.” She had added my parents, my brother, and even our driver and housekeeper. “From now on, Lily has to report every single purchase in the group chat,” she posted, followed by a cute smiley-face emoji. She claimed it was a team effort to help me develop good, frugal habits. “Victoria, you’re so thoughtful,” Mrs. Crawford replied almost instantly. “That’s the kind of daughter the Crawfords raise,” my father typed, adding a thumbs-up emoji. Michael delivered the closing statement: “Victoria has always been so mature. It’s great that she’s looking out for the family now that she’s home.” I stared at the screen, my hands shaking, wanting to type something, anything, in my defense. But what could I say? I was begging for ten dollars a day just to survive. Before I left, Victoria had personally cut up my debit and credit cards. She’d even gone through my wallet, counting out the cash inside. “This all belongs to Mom and Dad,” she’d said with a smile. “Starting today, you get to experience the real world, Lily.” Even as I packed, she’d stood over me like a hawk-eyed security guard, making sure I didn’t take any “valuables that don’t belong to you.” In the end, I left with only a few changes of clothes and my textbooks. She even confiscated the skincare products I’d used for years. “You stole the life that was meant for me,” she sent in a private message. “Now I’m taking it all back.” They’d already had my name legally removed from the family registry. Everything I had known for eighteen years was being returned to the true heiress. My phone buzzed again. “Oh, and don’t forget to post a detailed expense report in the group by 8 PM every night. If you go over budget, tomorrow’s allowance gets cut in half.” I looked down at the two cold, hard buns in my hand. They were my lunch and dinner, bought with the last three dollars on my meal card. I knew this was only the beginning. In Victoria’s little committee, I didn’t even have the right to fight back. 2 The morning alarm jolted me awake, and my first instinct was to grab my phone. I opened the “Oversight Committee” chat and tagged Victoria. “@VictoriaCrawford Please send today’s allowance.” The cafeteria started serving at 7 AM. I couldn’t afford to wait until 8 AM for her to leisurely send the money. She replied instantly. “Why are you in such a hurry? Afraid I won’t pay you? Mom and Dad promised they’d support you! Don’t you trust us?” Her messages came in a flood. “Can’t you wait a single minute? Is money all you think about? You can’t handle a little hardship? I had to live with your birth parents for eighteen years, you know.” The group chat exploded. Mom: “Victoria is already being so generous with you, Lily. Stop being so aggressive.” Dad: “The ten dollars is to teach you frugality, not for you to demand like a debt collector!” Michael: “Seriously? Making a scene over money first thing in the morning? It’s not like we’re not going to give it to you.” I stared at the screen, my knuckles white as I gripped my phone. In the end, I said nothing. After everyone had had their say, Victoria slowly sent out the ten-dollar allowance. But this time, she’d made it a group cash pool—a ten-dollar pot split into six random amounts for the whole family to grab. By the time I clicked, I’d only managed to get $2.30. My parents were busy comparing who got more, bragging about which of them was luckier and had gotten more of their real daughter’s “good fortune.” They’d completely forgotten their promise that they would “give it to me.” At the cafeteria, I stood in line with my tray. I could only afford a small serving of stir-fried greens, which I paired with the half a bun I’d saved from yesterday. I had just sat down when a piercing laugh cut through the noise behind me. “Well, well, if it isn’t the little princess! What are you eating? Even a pig wouldn’t eat that slop!” It was Victoria, arm-in-arm with her lackey, Ashley. Her voice was deliberately loud. She went to the premium counter and ordered a ninety-eight-dollar steak. She came back and sat down next to me, making a show of cutting into the steak, the sizzling sound a form of torture. My stomach rumbled as the rich, savory aroma filled my nostrils. “After stealing my life for eighteen years, you’re finally getting a taste of how normal people live?” she said, her voice dripping with fake pity. “I’m just too soft-hearted. I had to beg Mom and Dad to even give you an allowance. Otherwise, you’d be starving!” She leaned in closer. “Just you wait. Your real parents don’t even want you. They abandoned you because you’re a girl. Now you see what I had to suffer through for you, don’t you?” “This fake heiress is so obsessed with money. No self-awareness at all.” The whispers started around me. Some students shot me looks of disgust; others smirked with glee. I kept my head down, mechanically chewing the dry, hard bread. My throat was tight, but I forced myself to swallow. That evening, Victoria messaged the group right on time. “Where’s the expense report for today? No funny business, now.” I screenshotted my cafeteria payment. Caption: “Breakfast: Bun & egg, $3. Lunch: Greens, $4. Dinner: Fried dough, $2.” Victoria replied: “See, Mom and Dad? She can’t even spend the full ten dollars in a day!” The one dollar I had saved was for toiletries. Her comment made it sound like ten dollars was a fortune. In reality, I hadn’t had a single full meal all week. It was all vegetables, with the occasional egg. I’d lost several pounds and felt dizzy when I walked. At this rate, just staying healthy was a challenge, let alone studying. I forced myself to go to the guidance counselor and ask about a work-study program. “Ma’am, I’d like to apply for a job in the cafeteria or the library.” The counselor pushed her glasses up her nose and looked me up and down. “Lily, you’re dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes. Why are you pretending to be poor? Victoria already told me her parents are still supporting you. Don’t be so ungrateful.” I was stunned. “But, I…” “That’s enough,” she said, her tone sharp with irritation. “You need to adjust to a normal life and stop acting like you’re still some pampered heiress.” Victoria had gotten to her first. I left her office and leaned against the wall in the hallway, slowly sliding to the floor. Hunger, humiliation, isolation… She didn’t just want me to suffer. She wanted everyone to believe I deserved it. 3 I endured her petty torments, gritting my teeth and keeping my head down. I thought if I didn’t fight back, she’d eventually get bored and leave me alone. I was wrong. A post suddenly went viral on the school’s online forum. Exposing the Fake Heiress’s Life of Luxury. The post was full of photos from my birthday party last year. Back then, I was the apple of my parents’ eye, and my brother would do anything for me. In the pictures, I was wearing a couture gown, smiling in front of a three-tiered cake. Around my neck was a limited-edition diamond necklace from a luxury brand—a gift from my parents. “Look at the life this imposter used to live. Who is she trying to fool with this poor-little-me act?” The comment section was flooded with recent photos of me in the cafeteria, eating dry bread and plain vegetables. Victoria loved to rail against the rich, but even when I was meticulously surviving on ten dollars a day, I couldn’t escape her relentless bullying. My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the post. Those photos were from a private party. They could have only come from someone inside my old house. My first instinct was to call Ryan. He was once my “fiancé,” desperate to ingratiate himself with my family. The phone rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “What’s up?” His voice was cold, distant. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. In the background, I heard Victoria’s sweet, coquettish voice. “Who is it, Ryan?” “No one,” he said quickly, and hung up. I listened to the dial tone, a bitter smile on my face. Ryan was a classic opportunist. He was probably busy fawning over Victoria now. If she found out I’d called him, I’d be walking right into a trap. I’d be accused of trying to “seduce her man.” Then I probably wouldn’t even have my ten dollars a day anymore. After I went from a wealthy heiress to a penniless fake, Victoria’s whispers turned me into the school’s new favorite target for bullying. My textbooks would mysteriously disappear. Someone poured glue on my chair. The words “Fake & Snooty” were scrawled in red paint across my dorm locker. I had no money for sanitary pads, so I had to secretly use wads of toilet paper. During gym class, I bled through my pants. Soon after, the anonymous texts started. “How can you still show your face at school?” “She did it on purpose to get attention from the boys!” “Just die, you imposter.” I hid in a bathroom stall, crying until my head spun. I planned to wait until everyone was gone before sneaking back to my dorm. That’s when I overheard Victoria and her friends talking outside. “Ryan bought me a necklace yesterday,” Victoria chirped to Ashley. “He said he wants to make up for all the suffering I went through.” “So when are you two going public?” “What’s the rush?” Victoria laughed. “Ryan said he’s going to help me get that imposter kicked out of school first. As a sign of his devotion.” I sat on the toilet, a wave of despair washing over me. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? What were they planning next? And what was I supposed to do? As I sat there, utterly hopeless, a couple claiming to be my real parents showed up at my dorm.
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