The day my six-year-old biological daughter was returned to me, she refused to let me near her. My husband, Stephen, said she just needed time to adjust. "Why don't you go on your business trip?" he suggested gently. "When you come back with lots of gifts, I'm sure she'll warm up to you." I was about to leave when I heard it—a small, terrified voice that wasn't spoken aloud. Should I tell Mommy that my sister is always hitting me? Daddy said Mommy doesn't like kids who tattle. He said she doesn't like me. But if I don't tell her... I don't think I'll be alive when she comes back. My heart seized. My head snapped toward the corner of the room, where my daughter, Violet, was huddled. Our eyes met, and hers were filled with tears. She didn't open her mouth, but the voice came again, clear as day. Maybe I was reborn because I missed Mommy so much. Stephen saw me frozen in place. "Honey, you're going to miss your flight." I turned and slapped him across the face, the sound cracking through the quiet house. A business trip? To hell with that. I was staying right here with my baby girl, and I'd kill anyone who tried to hurt my child. … Stephen cupped his cheek, his face a mask of shocked disbelief. I’ve always been assertive, but I’d never laid a hand on anyone. Seeing my genuine fury, he quickly made an excuse about an urgent matter at the office and fled the house. The moment he was gone, Violet, who had been standing near me, shrank behind a marble pillar. Mommy is just as scary as Daddy said. Hearing her thoughts again, I was taken aback. The slap had been a knee-jerk reaction, pure rage fueled by the fear that my daughter’s life was in danger. I could be impatient, yes, but scary? Why would Stephen tell her that? After Violet was found and the devastating hospital mix-up was revealed, Stephen had been the perfect, caring father. He’d even created a detailed file for me on how to best interact with a child who had spent her first six years in an orphanage. He had always been the patient one in our marriage, the one who took on the bulk of the childcare. It had to be a misunderstanding. Looking at the tiny, trembling girl, I felt an overwhelming urge to hold her. I knelt down, forcing a gentle smile. "Mommy's not going to work today. How about we go visit your new school instead?" Violet’s eyes widened in surprise, and she nodded. I scooped her into my arms, and her thoughts flooded my mind again, soft and wondrous. Mommy smells so nice. Her hug is so warm. It’s a shame that the first time Mommy held me in my last life, I was already dead. I couldn’t feel how warm she was. A cold dread gripped me. According to her, by this point in her previous life, I was already out of the country. Well, this time I was here. And I was going to find out which son of a bitch dared to lay a hand on my daughter. I dressed Violet in a beautiful new dress. I only went upstairs for a moment to grab my purse, but when I came back down, I found Jenny—the daughter I had raised for six years, the one mistakenly swapped with mine—jabbing a finger in Violet’s face. "You little peasant, who said you could wear that dress?" Jenny shrieked. "This is a one-of-a-kind piece! I am the only princess in this house!" "You're trash! Just because you live here now doesn't make you one of us!" With that, Jenny lunged forward and began tearing at the delicate fabric of Violet’s dress. I saw red. I rushed down the stairs, but by the time I reached them, Jenny was already on the floor, a piece of torn fabric clutched in her hand. She held her arms out to me, tears streaming down her face. "Mommy, I don't know why she hit me!" she wailed. "Mommy, I didn't!" Violet cried, her voice trembling. "You did!" Jenny sobbed. "You said I stole your place for three years and that you wanted me to die! Mommy, I can leave and give her back her spot, just please don't let me die! I'm scared I won't see you again if I die!" Violet opened her mouth to argue, but then clamped it shut, her head bowed. If I try to explain, Mommy will just think I'm a bad kid who won't admit when I'm wrong. In my last life, whenever Jenny bullied me, Daddy and my brothers only ever believed her. They thought I was a liar who started fights and then played the victim. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I looked at my timid, cautious daughter, already preparing to apologize for something she didn't do. I immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her with my body. "Jenny, I saw the whole thing," I said, my voice cold and even. "You were the one who started tearing at Violet's dress. Why are you lying and saying she hit you?" Jenny stared at me, her face a picture of disbelief. "You don't believe me? You believe this... this stray?" she screamed. "You're her real mother, so I'm the outsider! You're ganging up on me! You promised you would still love me even after she came back, but you lied!" With a final, theatrical sob, Jenny ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door. As angry as I was, a part of me understood. She’d been the pampered center of our universe for six years. To suddenly learn she wasn't our biological child had to be a terrible shock. Her hostility toward Violet was... understandable, for a child. I took a deep breath, ready to go up and have a calm, patient talk with her. But as I approached her door, I heard her voice, dripping with venom. "That old hag is already taking her side. I'm crying my eyes out, and she actually cares about the 'truth.' The truth is that little beast should just die! Just wait until she's not home. I'll teach that animal a lesson she'll never forget." My hand, raised to knock, froze in mid-air. I couldn't believe the child I had nurtured and adored could harbor such ugly thoughts. Just then, Violet came up behind me, tugging timidly on my sleeve. "Mommy, I don't want to go to school anymore," she whispered, her eyes wet with tears. Jenny is so mad today. She's going to kill me. I don't want to be locked in the kennel with the dog like last time. The dog bites so hard. It bit off my nose and my ears. Hearing this, the last of my restraint shattered. After Violet was returned to us, I'd felt pity for Jenny. I wanted to treat them both equally. But she wasn’t just acting like a princess; she was a monster, tormenting my real daughter. I immediately called for the nanny. "Pack Miss Jenny's things," I ordered, my voice ringing through the hall. "She's being sent to a group home." The stream of curses from Jenny’s room stopped abruptly. The nanny just stared at me. "Ma'am, how can you be so biased?" she clucked disapprovingly. "Miss Jenny is heartbroken. How can you be so cruel? People will talk." She sniffed. "Besides, Miss Jenny is so bright and clever, she'll be a great success one day. Unlike Violet... so timid and weak. Who knows what will become of her." I slapped the nanny so hard her head snapped to the side. "Who the hell do you think you are, judging my daughters?" I snarled. "You have two choices: take Jenny to the home now, or pack your own bags and get out!" The nanny panicked. "Ma'am, maybe we should wait for Mr. Stephen to come home. The man should be the one to make these decisions…" I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. This entire house, this entire fortune, was mine. Stephen had married into my family. And this nanny, with her archaic ideas, dared to lecture me? "Even when Stephen gets here, he'll do as I say," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "And you? You're fired." I called the estate manager right then and there and had her terminated. As the security guards threw her luggage onto the curb, the nanny shrieked that Stephen would make me pay. I watched the front gate close on her, a grim satisfaction settling in my heart. In the car, I turned to Violet. "If anyone, and I mean anyone, ever bullies you again, you tell Mommy immediately. I will always protect you." Tears welled in Violet’s eyes, but then she broke into a radiant smile and nodded fiercely. And then, I heard her thoughts again. Mommy is nothing like the mommy Daddy told me about. Was Daddy lying? Does Mommy actually love me? But then why... why in my last life, when I was dying and begged Daddy to call her, did he tell me Mommy didn't want to see me? My blood ran cold. Was Stephen involved in this? My suspicion solidified the moment we arrived at the prestigious academy. The headmistress informed me that Violet wasn't on the enrollment list. I had explicitly told Stephen to register both girls and to gift each of them 10% of my company's stock as an enrollment present. "Please, check again," I insisted. "Jenny and Violet Sinclair were registered together." The headmistress shot a contemptuous look at Violet. "Mr. Stephen came by himself," she said smugly. "He said that he would be gifting the full twenty percent of Sinclair Industries stock to his daughter, Jenny. As for this one," she gestured dismissively at Violet, "is she an illegitimate child or something? She certainly isn't entitled to any shares." "How dare you?" I exploded. "How dare you slander my daughter? The Sinclair stock is mine, and I'll give it to whomever I damn well please!" She smirked, but before she could retort, her expression morphed into one of fawning adoration. "Mr. Stephen! What a pleasant surprise!" I turned and saw him hurrying toward us. He ignored the headmistress, his face a mask of concern. "Honey, what happened at home? I heard Jenny was hysterical." I slapped him again. "Why didn't you enroll our daughter?" He finally seemed to notice the situation, stammering, "Violet just came from an orphanage... I was worried she wouldn't adapt to a private academy. I didn't want her to be bullied." "Violet is the sole heiress to Sinclair Industries. Who would dare bully her?" I shot back. "And if they did, she needs to learn to fight back. How else will she run a multi-billion dollar corporation?" Stephen froze. "What do you mean, sole heiress? What about Jenny? And what about our three sons? How can you be so biased?" "Our family business has always been passed down to the women," I said coolly. "You didn't seem to have a problem when I said I was giving it to Jenny. Why is it an issue now that it's Violet's turn? And don't you dare talk to me about bias. This woman just told me you were giving twenty percent of my company to Jenny." Stephen looked at the headmistress in shock. The headmistress, completely misreading the situation, pointed a finger at me. "A mistress should know her place! Don't get too arrogant. Mr. Stephen can replace you in a heartbeat!" "What the hell are you talking about?" Stephen roared, his face turning purple. "I'm the one who can't live without my wife!" The headmistress finally realized her mistake and shrank back.
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