Chapter 1
Mark, my husband, and his mom, were totally
wrapped around his foster daughter’s finger.
It was sickening.
When Sarah, my actual daughter, aced a test,
Amy, the foster kid, claimed she cheated.
Mark, spineless as ever, forced Sarah to kneel
and apologize to the whole school.
Seriously?
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Then, when money went missing, Amy pointed
the finger, and Mark’s mom, a real piece of
work, called Sarah a thief.
And the worst part?
When Sarah finally found a boyfriend, Amy
casually dropped, “Oh, I like him too.”
They didn’t just break my girl; they flat–out
drove her to suicide.
Then, they had the nerve to say she was a
home–wrecking loser who couldn’t handle it.
No way was I buying that garbage.
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I pushed the cops to investigate, but Mark ran
me down with his car.
The last thing I heard was Amy’s voice saying,
“Mom may have money, but once she’s gone,
no one will ever figure out I’m Dad’s real kid.”
Now, I’m back.
I’m staring at Amy, fresh off the foster care
truck.
And I’m smiling.
This is gonna be fun.
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- 1.
Mark barges in, and this little waif with the
fake–tear eyes peeks out from behind him.
“Hi, Mom, I’m Amy, the foster kid Dad just
brought home.”
“Thanks for giving me a place to sleep and
eat.”
Ugh.
I’m reliving the nightmare.
Mark’s all nervous.
<
“Honey, I just felt a connection with her…”
I take one look at that face, with a hint of
Mark’s features, and I want to scream.
Connection, my butt.
Try secret love child.
I play it cool.
“Okay, come on in.”
Mark sighs, relieved, and leads her over to the
couch.
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Even his mom, who can barely drag herself
out of bed, is suddenly slicing up fruit.
“Amy’s such a bright, sweet kid; we’re lucky
to have her.”
Mark chimes in, all goofy–eyed.
“Yeah, babe, you always said you wanted another kid, and I hand–picked Amy from the orphanage; she’s a real winner!”
They’re holding her hand, gushing over her.
It’s like a freakin‘ sitcom, and Sarah, my actual daughter, and I are the unwelcome
L
guests.
“Hon, Amy had it rough at the orphanage;
they barely fed her.”
“Why don’t we give her Sarah’s room?”
Same old, same old.
Mark’s got the gall to bring his love child
home and then just hand over my daughter’s
stuff.
Sarah, bless her heart, is too good for her own good.
“Sure, Mom, she looks really sad; I can sleep
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anywhere.”
Not this time.
“Nope, Sarah’s got finals coming up; a move
like that would freak her out.”
“How about we put Amy in the maid’s room?
It’s clean and ready to go.”
Mark’s mom shoots me a dirty look.
“Don’t be such a Scrooge, Lisa; this house is huge; can’t you spare a room for the poor
kid?”
“She’s too young for that little space.”
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I give her my sweetest smile and nod.
“You’re right, she’s too delicate.”
“So, here’s an idea: you’re all grown up, so
you can toughen it up, so why don’t you move
into the maid’s room?”
