Exchange lives with my sister
Chapter 1
Last time around, both Summer and I got
adopted. Talk about hitting the lottery twice,
right?
Little Miss Sunshine, Summer, got picked up by this ice–cold, Stepford Wives family. They squeezed the life out of her until she was
diagnosed with depression, and eventually,
she… well, let’s just say she checked out early. Real shame.
Me? Let’s just say that my default setting is permanently set to Grumpy Cat so I ended up getting returned by some overly enthusiastic family who thought they could magically
transform me into a ray of sunshine.
After that little “oops, we don’t want her” stunt,
I became Public Enemy Number One at the
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orphanage. My social life went straight into the toilet and I basically followed in Summer’s
footsteps.
This time around, Summer asks, “Maybe we
could…”
I cut her off. “Swap.” No hesitation.
When the two couples came to pick their new kid, I saw Summer’s hand was shaking. Not like last time, when she was practically bouncing off
the walls with excitement.
Yeah, Summer definitely remembers.
Me? I was rocking my usual “I’d rather be
anywhere else” look.
Summer, bless her heart, tried to give me some
words of encouragement. “Don’t worry, they’ll
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definitely pick you.”
I just shrugged. “They’ll just return me anyway.”
Summer’s eyes practically popped out.
One look, and we were both back in that dingy
orphanage.
Last time, Summer got adopted by the wealthy
Chiang family. Seriously, they had more money
than God.
But when Summer went all–in to make her new
family happy, the ice–cold Chiang family
knocked her flat on her back.
Turns out, adopting a kid was just something
they had to tick off on some stupid “Rich
People To–Do List“.
They didn’t give a crap about Summer. They
just went through the motions, like some kind
of automated customer service robot. And don’t
even get me started on the laundry list of rules.
Summer tried. God, she tried. She tried being all
sunshine and rainbows, hoping to thaw out their
icy hearts. But all she got was a first class
ticket to the self–doubt express.
She suffocated in that environment and ended
up jumping from the highest building she could
find. At least she found a way out.
As for me, I got hauled off to the Peterson’s
house.
Mr. Peterson was a high school principal, and
Mrs. Peterson ran a pre–school. They were basically overflowing with enthusiasm for kids. They were eager to see me return the favor, but turns out, all I had to offer was a permanent
frown.
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t fake
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- it.
In the end, the Petersons gave up and sent me
back.
Back at the orphanage, I became the
“ungrateful brat” everyone loved to hate. Every
other kid at the orphanage blamed me for
wasting an adoption opportunity, so I was ostracized and basically left to rot.
Then, when I heard about Summer’s suicide, I
lost my last reason to stick around.
Go figure, we both got a do–over.
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Just like last time, the Chiangs and the Petersons were both eyeing Summer.
She could stand there, and look like a freakin‘
ray of sunshine. I mean, who wouldn’t want
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8:00
that?
Two families wanting the same kid meant
someone had to lose out.
Last time, the director stepped in and pushed
Summer on the Chiangs, then suggested the Petersons take me since I looked vaguely like
Summer.
The Petersons went along with it.
This time, same standoff.
But before the director could pull her usual
strings, I marched right up to the Chiangs. “Pick
me,” I said. “I can be whatever you want me to
be.”
The Chiangs were stunned.
Meanwhile, Summer sprinted over to the
Petersons, beaming, “Thank you for choosing
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The Petersons happily took her in.
So, this time, Summer went to the Petersons.
And I, Jiang Zhao Zhao… or as they’ll now call
me, Jane Smith, went to the Chiangs.
3
The Chiangs were a family of three, now four
with me.
Arthur Chiang was the dad, Olivia Chiang was
the mom, and David Chiang was the older
brother.
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They were all busy working, so the house was usually as silent as a tomb. We only saw each
other at dinner.
Which was fine by me. I enjoyed the daytime
silence.
