Escaping the wealthy family
Chapter 1
Out of the blue, this girl shows up, claiming to
be the real daughter of the Millers.
Dad just looks at me, cold, and says, “You’re
not my daughter.”
I’m thinking about the DNA report I just saw,
like, 99.99% match.
The irony hits me hard, but I keep my cool.
Fine, I don’t want them either!
I’m back, reliving my eighteenth year.
It’s the day Bethany shows up at the Millers,
claiming she’s family.
First thing I did after waking up? Got a DNA
test, me and the Miller parents.
My phone buzzes with the rush results:
<
99.99% match.
I take a deep breath outside the house, then
push open the door, and it all comes rushing
back.
Last time, I came home happy after hanging
out with friends, ready for a family dinner.
Instead, there’s this girl, about my age, sitting
next to Mom and Dad.
I play dumb, ask, “What’s going on?”
The Millers are all serious, faces tight, and I
see a hint of anger directed at me.
“You’re not my daughter,” Dad tells me, flat
out.
Last time he said that, it felt like the world
was ending, my ears were ringing.
I was shaking, asking, “How…how is that even
possible?” total disbelief, “We look so much
alike.”
“Looks aren’t everything, we raised you for
eighteen years, some resemblance is
nothing,” Dad says, super cold.
This morning, they were all lovey–dovey,
doting on me.
Even if I’m not their real kid, we’ve been
together for eighteen years, can you just
throw that away in a few hours?
“Don’t act like you’re the victim here,” Dad
says, then grabs Bethany’s arm, rolls up her
sleeve, and shows off all these bruises.
Mom loses it, yells at me, “If it wasn’t for you,
my daughter wouldn’t have suffered like this!
And you? You’ve been living the good life with
the Millers for eighteen years.”
They blamed it all on me, but I was just a kid,
too.
The insults keep coming, but I don’t say
anything, neither does Mom, she just looks
like she’s been crying for hours.
<
Finally, my brother, Mike, chimes in,
“Everyone calm down, Bethany’s home now,
we can’t change the past, let’s just make it up
to her.”
His words are like a lifeline when I’m
drowning.
But then he drops the bomb, his voice ice-
cold, “As for this fake, she can just get out.”
Fake, that’s what I am, that’s my new label.
But now, hearing it all again, I’m just calm,
nothing else.
I just ask, “So, what’s the plan?”
Mike says, cold as ever, “Leave.”
“Okay,” I say, easy.
They look shocked, like they expected me to
throw a fit.
Last time I did throw a fit, I clung on, no
matter how much they hurt me, I refused to
く
I head upstairs to pack.
I grab all the credit cards the Millers gave me,
put them in front of them, and say, “Thanks
for taking care of me for eighteen years.”
Then I turn and walk towards the door.
I knew, when I found out my real identity, the
Miller parents never checked if Bethany was
telling the truth.
They never even considered looking into it,
they just believed whatever they heard. If they
want to think Bethany’s the real deal, fine.
I don’t care.
I don’t want them anyway!
Then Bethany speaks up, “Don’t make her
leave, please,” her voice all choked up, “If I
knew coming back would make her homeless,
I wouldn’t have come.”
I’m rolling my eyes so hard, this girl is a total
drama queen.
If I hadn’t seen her in action before, I might
<
think she actually felt bad.
Dad hears Bethany, and his attitude towards
me softens a little, “Since your sister said so,
stay here and keep her company.”
Sister? Since when is she my sister?
And I have to keep her company? Why
doesn’t she ask for the moon while she’s at
it?
I snap back, “What? You guys can’t keep her
entertained? Besides, I’m not a Miller, why
would I stay here and keep her company?”
Dad just says, “Because we raised you for
eighteen years.”
Ugh, the gratitude card.
“How much do I owe you?”
“What?” Dad is confused.
I repeat, “How much did it cost to raise me
for eighteen years? I’ll pay you back.”
“You…” Dad clutches his chest, like I’m giving
him a heart attack.
<
Mom jumps in, patting him on the back, trying
to calm him down.
Bethany gives me a wounded look, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take your place. I just wanted
to meet my real parents. I didn’t want to make
you leave.”
