Allergic to Lies Chapter 1

My counterfeit sister was allergic to lies. The moment she heard one, she’d sneeze, break out in a rash, and her eyes would water.

The day I was brought back to my real family, she swelled up like a balloon, a mess of tears and snot.

And just like that, my entire family branded me a malicious liar.

Later, when my grandmother, paralyzed by a stroke, tumbled down the stairs, I barely had time to shake my head and deny it was me.

But the next second, my "sister" had a severe allergic reaction and went into anaphylactic shock.

My father was furious. My mother wept and cursed me.

My brother slapped me across the face. "How could the Warren family have produced such a venomous, black-hearted monster like you?"

I was humiliated, punished, and tormented.

It wasn’t until after I died that I finally learned her secret.

…

The day I was found by the Warrens, I forced myself to swallow a cup of scalding water. Only when I felt the searing, unbearable pain in my throat did I finally feel calm enough to get into their Porsche.

In my last life, the moment I saw my birth parents and brother, I had thrown myself into their arms, tears of joy streaming down my face.

My mother, her eyes red, kept repeating that they had finally found me.

Beside her, a timid girl named Olivia said softly, "I'm so sorry, Amelia. I've been occupying your place all these years. Now that you're back, I should give everything back to you."

My brother, Ethan, frowned and flicked her on the forehead. "Don't be silly. I'm sure Amelia won't mind."

I quickly took Olivia’s hand. "Of course not. I'll think of you as my own sister. We'll always be a family."

It should have been a heartwarming reunion.

But the moment I finished speaking, Olivia started rubbing her nose. She let out a series of violent sneezes, her hands scratching furiously at her reddening arms.

Ethan’s face darkened as he ordered a maid to fetch her allergy medication.

My parents subtly pulled their hands away from me, their warm gazes now tinged with suspicion.

I was terrified, unable to understand how my heartfelt words could have triggered such a reaction.

I had heard the stories. Olivia Warren, the family’s precious daughter, had a strange affliction. She was allergic to lies.

When they first adopted her, she had a severe reaction to a loyal, long-serving maid. An investigation revealed the maid was a corporate spy. Another time, at a banquet, Olivia’s incessant sneezing had stopped my father from closing a deal. It later turned out the businessman was bankrupt, and the deal was a scam. The most dramatic incident was at Ethan’s engagement party. After meeting his fiancée, Olivia broke out in a full-body rash and a dangerously high fever. In a rage, Ethan discovered his fiancée had a promiscuous past and was riddled with diseases, looking for a clean bill of health through marriage.

Story after story had cemented Olivia’s status as the family's fragile, cherished treasure. They trusted her implicitly and protected her fiercely.

And so, they were wary of me, their own flesh and blood.

My mother, flustered, could only ask me how my life had been. I thought of the beatings at the orphanage, the bullying at school, the struggle to survive at the bottom of society. All I could say was a bitter, “The hard days are over now.”

A flicker of pity crossed my mother’s face.

But Olivia, despite taking her medication, didn't get better. In fact, her arms began to break out in angry, swollen hives.

My mother, now truly worried, called the family doctor. The look she gave me was filled with suspicion and displeasure. It was clear she thought I was putting on an act to gain sympathy.

At that moment, Olivia, ever the reasonable one, offered to give me her room, saying it was only right.