I only found out later. The reason they didn't come to pick me up themselves was because Maya had attempted suicide. No wonder everyone in that house treated me with such icy indifference. It turns out, they were terrified of triggering her. They explained to me later that Maya had a history of severe clinical depression. She had finally started to open up and become happy again. But my sudden reappearance caused a massive relapse. They asked me to be understanding. I didn't care. If they didn't love me, that was fine. I wasn't starved for affection. I already had a family who truly loved me. 1 To say I wasn't expectant would be a lie. What kid wouldn't be expectant when they finally find their biological parents? When I found out from our nosy but well-meaning neighbors that my mom and dad weren't my biological parents... I went home and cried my eyes out. But my parents managed to coax me out of it with a mountain of snacks, new toys, and endless promises. The main reason it worked was because they treated me so incredibly well. There was absolutely no difference between how they treated me and how other parents treated their biological kids. When I messed up, they would scold me and teach me the right way to do things. When I brought home good grades, they were bursting with pride. When I threw irrational tantrums, my dad would get so mad he'd give me a couple of swats on the rear, but never in front of other people. When I caught a severe flu and had a dangerously high fever, my mom cried her eyes out in the ER, and my dad stayed awake all night taking care of me. Every scrape or bruise I got made their hearts ache. Even after my little brother was born, they never showed an ounce of favoritism. Kids have short memories. Wrapped in the warmth of that home, I quickly forgot about the adoption revelation. I grew up happy and carefree all the way into middle school. Both of my parents were public school teachers, so my academic discipline was always pretty strong. Since elementary school, I had never dropped out of the top three in my grade. During the high school entrance exams, I overperformed and scored the second-highest in the entire city. The top two magnet high schools in the district both offered me full rides. While my parents and I were still debating which school would be a better fit... That was when my biological parents found me. It turned out that a while back, when I went to Chicago for the national finals of a physics competition, a chaperone parent—who happened to be a distant relative of my biological parents—thought I looked incredibly familiar. Apparently, my eyes and brow line were a carbon copy of my biological mother's. Combined with the fact that I was the exact right age, she snapped a photo of me right then and there and sent it to my biological mother. My biological parents immediately launched an investigation and discovered I had been adopted by my current family. After that, it was a blur of police involvement, DNA testing, and legal paperwork. When the DNA results came back positive, the elegant, highly refined woman who looked so much like me completely lost her composure, holding me and sobbing uncontrollably. I could feel the overwhelming, uncontrollable emotion pouring out of her. The tall, broad-shouldered man standing next to her—my biological father—was also secretly wiping his eyes. My biological mother's body trembled as she held me. She cried and laughed at the same time, saying thank God I was adopted by a kind family and didn't have to suffer. Since the biological connection was confirmed, and I was a minor, the law technically favored me returning to my biological parents. But there was still a lot of paperwork to sort out on both sides, so they couldn't just take me away immediately. I also needed time to properly say goodbye to the parents who raised me. When my biological parents left, they stopped the car several times before finally driving away. My biological mother got out of the car multiple times, hugging me tightly, looking back at me with every step she took toward the vehicle. They promised they would come pick me up in a few days. 2 Finding my biological parents and learning I wasn't intentionally abandoned by them brought me a deep sense of joy. They told me the story of what happened when I was born. Shortly after I was born, a nanny they had hired stole some expensive jewelry from my biological mother. When she found out, she fired the nanny immediately. The nanny harbored a deep grudge. A few days later, she snuck back into the Vance family estate and abducted me. I vanished just like that, and they could never find me again. They didn't know exactly what happened after that, but it was highly likely the nanny eventually just abandoned me. My current adoptive parents had adopted me from a local orphanage. They had been married for several years and couldn't conceive, so they decided to adopt. I was incredibly lucky to cross paths with such a kind-hearted couple. They truly treated me as their own flesh and blood, pouring everything they had into raising me. When I was four, they miraculously conceived a child of their own—my little brother. They always said having a daughter and a son made their family perfectly complete. Knowing I was going to be separated from them and move to my biological parents' home in Chicago, I hugged them and cried hysterically. I asked them if I could just stay. I wanted to keep living with them. As for my biological parents, I could just visit them during summer and winter breaks. Of course, my parents didn't want to let me go, but they swallowed their own pain and gently reasoned with me. "We raised you for all these years, of course we don't want to let you go. But they are your biological parents, and they've been searching for you for over a decade!" "As parents, the agony of losing a child is like having your heart ripped out. They've been living in torment every single day." "The sheer miracle of finding you again... how could we possibly be cruel enough to stand in the way of that?" "Besides, we can tell they truly love you, which is the only reason we're willing to make this sacrifice." "And there's another thing. Your biological parents live in Chicago, in one of the most expensive zip codes in the country. They are a true, old-money family." "The resources and opportunities they can provide for you are things we couldn't match even if we worked for several lifetimes." "They can give you a much better life." "But, Chloe, you will always, always be our daughter." "Even if we don't live under the same roof, remember that this house in Maple Creek will always be your home." Despite the agonizing reluctance, I knew I had to leave. The one silver lining was that both my adoptive father and my biological father shared the last name Vance. Which meant I didn't have to face the awkwardness of changing my last name. That night in bed, the faces of my biological parents floated through my mind. I realized that my features really did carry echoes of theirs. Especially my biological mother. I looked so much like her; it was no wonder that relative instantly thought of her the second she saw me. Maybe that innate biological connection was real? Thinking about the sheer joy and concern in their eyes, and their extreme reluctance to leave me, a wave of warmth flooded my heart. What would it feel like to live with my biological parents? Would they be as good to me as my mom and dad are now? A seed of anticipation began to take root in my heart. But, when the day came for me to be picked up, the only person who arrived was an older man who introduced himself as the Vance family butler. My biological parents did not personally come to take me home, as they had promised. 3 Under the butler's guidance, I flew on a plane for the very first time in my life, and in first class, no less. When we landed in Chicago, only a driver was there to pick us up. The car navigated through the sprawling metropolis for over an hour before arriving at a stunning, gated residential community. Just as my parents had said, the Vance family was incredibly wealthy. The house in front of me was a massive, sprawling estate, exactly like the ones you see in movies about the ultra-rich. I had never seen a house this huge, or a yard this vast. There were people in the gardens using riding mowers to trim the immaculate lawns. I looked over curiously, and the butler told me they were just the estate staff and I didn't need to greet them. Inside the luxurious, cavernous living room, there was only one woman standing there waiting. The butler said to her: "This is Miss Chloe. Please take her to her room and make sure she is settled in." With that, he handed me off to this woman, "Martha," and left. Martha took my suitcase, her tone perfectly respectful: "Miss Chloe, the Madam has already had your room decorated. Please follow me." I followed her up the grand staircase. The room was on the second floor. It was massive, with its own en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet. It was decorated in a very girly style; the furniture and wallpaper were all shades of soft pink. "Miss Chloe, you must be exhausted from the trip. You can rest for a while." "Um—" I paused. I still couldn't quite bring myself to say 'Mom and Dad.' "Are they... are they all busy?" Martha's expression faltered for a second. "Ah? Oh, yes. The Mister and Madam are both busy." I nodded and walked into the room. I opened my suitcase and hung all my clothes in the closet. It was a late summer afternoon. Aside from the faint hum of traffic in the distance, the entire mansion was eerily silent. My body was exhausted from the long trip, but lying in the massive bed, I couldn't fall asleep. An inexplicable wave of grievance washed over me. When they left, they had been so reluctant to say goodbye. When they held me, they cried with such profound sorrow. The way they looked at me was so tender. She was the one who explicitly promised she would personally come to Maple Creek to pick me up. They were adults. They broke their promise. And now, they just dumped me in this massive house all by myself. Two liars. Maybe... maybe they really were dealing with a massive emergency and couldn't get away? The CEO of the Vance Corporation, the matriarch of the Vance family... they sounded like incredibly busy people. Just like the executives on TV, constantly rushing from one crisis to the next. 4 In a hazy, half-awake state, I spent my first afternoon there. When I finally got up and looked out the window, the sky had already turned dark. Martha knocked on the door, calling me down for dinner. Right as I started eating, a tall, lean, and incredibly handsome teenage boy rushed into the dining room. "Young Master, why are you back so soon?" Martha looked shocked and hurriedly rushed over to greet him. I stared at the handsome boy under the chandelier, momentarily stunned. Even though it was our first time meeting, there was an undeniable familiarity to his face. I instantly guessed who he was. My older brother. I had heard Mrs. Vance mention before that I had an older biological brother, two years older than me. His name was Julian Vance. Mrs. Vance had looked apologetic, explaining that my brother was in Switzerland for an elite summer camp and couldn't make it back in time to see me. She had emphasized: "Your brother was so incredibly excited when he heard we found you. He even picked out a gift for you. But the camp wouldn't let him leave early, so he'll have to meet you a little later." I had nodded, expressing my understanding. Brother? That title felt very alien to me. But also very exciting. I'd heard that older brothers were usually very protective of their little sisters. Would he be like that? I felt another surge of anticipation. And now, my brother was standing right in front of me. I put down my fork, my hands balling into nervous fists. I hesitated, not knowing what my very first sentence to him should be. Should I just call him 'brother' right away? Would that seem too casual? But if I didn't, would it seem impolite? While I was agonizing over it, Martha spoke up: "Young Master, you haven't had dinner yet, have you? Perfect timing, you can eat with Miss Chloe." "Chloe?" The boy seemed to finally notice I was there, his gaze sweeping over me. I gathered my courage, trying my best to smile naturally. "Hi, brother, I—" "Is Maya still at the hospital?" Julian interrupted me completely, looking directly at Martha. "Ah? Oh, yes." Martha nodded. "But the Madam just called. She said Miss Maya is mostly fine now, and they should be home in an hour at the latest." "Young Master, you should eat first. By the time you're done, they'll be arriving." Julian immediately turned on his heel, taking large strides toward the front door. "I can't wait. I need to see for myself that Maya is okay." He was like a whirlwind. He arrived in a rush, and he left in a rush. After he left, I looked at Martha, staring blankly as I asked: "Who is Maya?" 5 "Miss Maya is the daughter the Mister and Madam adopted. She's also the Madam's biological niece." Martha had originally only intended to give a brief summary. But perhaps the urge to gossip took over, and the more she talked, the more invested she got. I had absolutely no idea the Vance family had another daughter. They had never mentioned her to me. This girl named Maya was exactly my age, only two months older than me. She was the daughter of Mrs. Vance's younger brother. When Maya was seven, her parents were killed in a tragic accident. During the car crash, her parents desperately shielded her with their bodies. At such a young age, witnessing the brutal death of her parents, the trauma was so severe that she stopped speaking completely. Psychiatrists diagnosed her with severe clinical depression. At that time, Mrs. Vance, who had lost her own daughter, felt a deep, empathetic connection with her traumatized niece. She brought the girl home, spent every day with her, and took her to countless specialists. While trying to heal Maya, she was also trying to save herself. Over time, the girl's dependence on Mrs. Vance grew deeper and deeper. The two of them formed a profound emotional bond, mutually healing each other. As the days turned into years, Mrs. Vance and Maya slowly emerged from the shadows of their respective traumas. Their mental states gradually returned to normal. Maya even started speaking again. Reaching this point in the story, Martha couldn't help but sigh: "These past few years have been incredibly difficult for the Madam and Miss Maya." "To coax a smile out of them, the Mister and the Young Master have basically exhausted every trick in the book." "When they finally started smiling again, that was when this house finally felt alive." Saying this, she offered me a comforting look: "But now that you're back, Miss Chloe, this family is truly complete. There are no more regrets." "I am genuinely so happy for the Madam." "Thinking back to those early years when she cried herself to sleep every single night... sigh, it's better not to dwell on the past." "Anyway, it's nothing but good days from here on out." Good days? I sat blankly at the dining table, staring straight ahead, feeling utterly lost in a fog of confusion. After finishing dinner, I sat on the sofa in the living room. Martha tried several times to persuade me to go upstairs, take a shower, and rest, but I refused. I stubbornly insisted on waiting for them to come home. Right around 10:00 PM, I finally heard noise outside. I looked over and saw several figures walking through the massive front doors. Mr. and Mrs. Vance, my biological parents, I recognized immediately. My brother, Julian, I had just met. But there was another girl with them, looking about my age. She looked incredibly frail and thin, her face paper-white. Mrs. Vance had her arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. It was my first time in this strange new environment. I had spent the entire afternoon alone, and it was natural to feel timid and scared. Seeing familiar faces, I couldn't stop myself from running toward them. I stood in front of Mrs. Vance, my eyes shining with joy, waiting for her to hug me. After all, just a few weeks ago, she had hugged me every single day, refusing to let go, looking terrified that someone might snatch me away again. But she didn't hug me. Instead, she held the girl next to her even tighter and took a step back. She frowned, her tone laced with displeasure: "Watch where you're going. Don't bump into Maya. She has a weak constitution." 6 Her expression made me feel like I was looking at a complete stranger. I glanced at Mr. Vance and Julian; both of them were looking at me with distinct disapproval. As if they were reprimanding me for being reckless. I felt completely paralyzed with awkwardness. I stood frozen in place, not knowing what to do. The three of them walked right past me, heading further into the house. I could see that Mrs. Vance's eyes were entirely focused on the girl named Maya. She didn't even spare me a glance out of the corner of her eye. Mrs. Vance helped Maya sit down on the sofa and instructed Martha: "Warm up a glass of milk for the Miss." Mr. Vance and Julian crowded around her as well, their eyes full of concern. "Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?" "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?" "Do you want to go back to your room and rest?" The girl named Maya slowly shook her head. "I'm okay now, Mom, Dad." Oh. So she called them Mom and Dad directly. Oh. So during the years I was gone, they had already gotten another daughter. Then, Maya turned her head, looked at me, and blinked. "So this is Chloe, your biological daughter?" Her voice was incredibly airy and light, making her sound like she lacked the energy to even speak. Mrs. Vance's gaze never left Maya. She answered casually: "Yes. She's two months younger than you, so she's technically your younger sister." It sounded like she was introducing a completely irrelevant person. I stood there awkwardly, digging my fingernails into my palms. "Oh right, Maya, I brought you a gift from Switzerland." Julian spoke up. "It's that designer plushie you've been wanting. I'll go get it for you right now." He got up, opened his suitcase, pulled out an elaborately wrapped box, and handed it to the girl. "Thank you, Julian." The girl opened it, her eyes lighting up with joy, her tone delighted. I suddenly remembered what Mrs. Vance had told me: "Your brother was so incredibly excited when he heard we found you. He even picked out a gift for you." A bizarre, stubborn defiance flared up in my chest, forcing me to stand there rigidly. As if I were waiting for something. But I waited, and nothing came. After Julian handed over the gift, the three of them watched adoringly as the girl showed off the plushie, discussing its origins and backstory. It felt like two distinct force fields had formed in the living room. Them in one, me in the other. I couldn't cross into their world. Watching them patiently humor the girl and her plushie, I silently turned around and walked upstairs. That night, hiding under the covers, my grievance morphed into an uncontrollable flood of tears. They soaked half my pillow. 7 I missed my mom and dad so much. I abruptly sat up in bed. I opened my suitcase. Inside lay a solitary smartphone box. My parents had promised me that if I scored in the top three of my entire school on the high school entrance exams, they would reward me with a smartphone. They hadn't even had the chance to buy it before my biological parents showed up, throwing everything into chaos. Right before I left, my dad rushed out of the house. When he came back, he shoved a brand-new smartphone directly into my suitcase. "A promise is a promise. Mom and Dad always keep their word." He also handed me a new SIM card. "This is a secondary line attached to my account. It's never been used. You use this for now, and you can switch to a local Chicago number once you get settled." I took the new phone out and popped the SIM card in. I knew my parents' phone numbers by heart. I immediately dialed my mom's number. When the call connected, I had barely managed to say, "Mom, it's Chloe," before the sound of a little boy wailing like a banshee erupted from the speaker. "Chloe Vance, where did you go?!" "I only went to Grandpa's house for half a month, how could you just disappear when I got back?" "You promised if I got first place on my finals, you'd take me to the arcade! You're a giant liar!" As he kept talking, his tone shifted from righteous indignation to pathetic whimpering. "Mom and Dad said you found your biological parents. Are you ever coming back, sis?" "I already miss you so much, sis." "How could you be so cruel and just leave me?" The tears I had just managed to dry started falling all over again. "Chloe, it's Mom." My mom's gentle voice came through the receiver. "Don't listen to your brother, he's just throwing a little tantrum. Tell me, you're back now, your biological parents must be thrilled, right? What kind of delicious food did they make for you? Are you adjusting okay over there?" Hearing my mom's familiar, soothing voice flowing into my ear, my tears—which had finally stopped—began falling in massive drops once more. When people feel wronged, the hardest thing to bear is hearing the voice of someone who truly cares about them. Because the grievance instantly magnifies tenfold. I fought back the sobs, covering the phone's mouthpiece, taking deep breaths to force my emotions back under control. When I finally spoke again, the tremor was gone from my voice. "They're treating me really well. The house here is huge and incredibly fancy. The food is great, and my bedroom is the pink color I love. I'm adjusting perfectly fine." My mom's anxiety finally seemed to dissipate. "That's wonderful. Focus on your studies, and whenever you have time, come back and visit. Your room here will always be waiting for you." "Mhm. Sounds good, Mom." Right before we hung up, I could still hear my little brother complaining loudly in the background: "I wasn't done talking yet!" After that phone call, I felt significantly better. The negative emotions that had been suffocating me—the grievance, the resentment, the discomfort—vanished in an instant. I felt like my energy had been fully restored. Lying in bed, I started to think rationally. Maybe the girl named Maya really was just in very poor health. She looked so frail, so pale, she clearly didn't look healthy. Martha had also said they had just gotten back from the hospital. So Maya must have had a medical emergency, right? When a girl you've raised since childhood gets sick—a girl who is essentially your own daughter—it's completely natural for the whole family to be anxious and focused on her. This just proves they are deeply emotional people. It doesn't mean they are cold and heartless, right? Was I being too petty by holding onto this? 8 The next morning, after getting washed and dressed, I hummed a little tune as I went downstairs. Seeing the family gathered around the dining table, I flashed a massive, bright smile and greeted them loudly. "Good morning, everyone!" As for what to actually call them, I genuinely didn't know how to open my mouth. Mom and Dad? I couldn't bring myself to say it yet. However, calling him "Brother" felt doable. I looked at Julian and said loudly, "Good morning, Brother!" Maya, who was looking down and sipping her soup, froze. The porcelain spoon slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. The other three immediately rushed over to her in a panic. "Maya, what's wrong? Are you feeling sick again?" Maya's expression looked like it was about to shatter, but she forced a brave, strained smile. "I was just startled hearing someone else call him 'Brother.' I'm just not used to it. I guess... I guess he's not just my brother anymore." The room plunged into dead silence. It took a long moment before Julian gently stroked the top of her head, comforting her softly: "Don't worry. I'm your brother, and nobody is ever going to take me away from you." Only then did Maya offer a genuine smile. I hadn't done anything wrong, but sitting at that table, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I just wanted to escape this awkward, suffocating situation as quickly as possible. After finishing my food, I put down my fork and practically sprinted upstairs to my room. Not long after, there was a knock at the door. I opened it. Julian was standing there. He spoke with an emotionless, flat tone: "From now on, don't call me 'Brother' directly. Just call me Julian." Perhaps seeing my bewildered expression, he cleared his throat and tried to explain. "Maya has a very weak constitution, and she's extremely psychologically fragile. She can't handle sudden shocks." "You arriving so suddenly... she's having a hard time processing it. Over time, as we all get used to each other, she'll adapt." "Okay, Julian." I agreed obediently. He hadn't been gone long when another knock came at the door. This time, it was Mr. and Mrs. Vance. They wore expressions of vague guilt and awkwardness. "Um, Chloe, as you can see, Maya is a very sensitive child." "If you start calling us Mom and Dad, she—" "I understand." I interrupted her with a smile. "I'll just call you Mr. and Mrs. Vance!" Honestly, calling them Mom and Dad was something I couldn't bring myself to do anyway. This saved me the trouble. Seeing me say this, they visibly relaxed. Mrs. Vance nodded approvingly. "I knew it. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were a very mature, understanding girl, Chloe." She reached out, intending to pat me on the head. I instinctively took a step back, dodging her hand. A flash of hurt crossed her eyes. She froze for a second, but ultimately said nothing.
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