Switched at Birth: Why My Parents Kept the "Fake" Daughter Chapter 1

The "true heiress" suddenly showed up at our door, hugging my mom's leg and sobbing that she was my parents' biological daughter.

My mom was stunned. My older brother was stunned. I was stunned.

My brother waved his hand dismissively, declaring he’d take us all to get a DNA test.

My mom, her legs weak, immediately called my dad: "Arthur, come home quick! Our daughter might have been switched at birth!"

My dad was unusually calm: "I know."

"How could you possibly know?!"

"Didn't you complain that she was crying too loud and told me to change her? So I swapped her for one that didn't cry."

"I TOLD YOU TO CHANGE HER DIAPER!" My mom's devastated shriek nearly brought down the roof.

* * *

Halfway through typing up my copywriting draft, my mom walked into my room with a heavy, mournful expression.

"Harper, I can't hide this from you anymore."

"The truth is, you aren't your father's and my biological child. All these years, we've treated you as our own, and the thought of sending you away truly breaks my heart."

"But there's nothing we can do. Your biological parents have come looking for you. They're downstairs right now."

I sat quietly, watching her cry, and didn't say a word.

"And there's the daughter I haven't seen since the day she was born. You don't understand, she looks exactly like me."

She buried her face in her hands, weeping uncontrollably.

"Now that she's back, I have no choice but to send you back to your real family. I just hope you won't hate me."

I closed my laptop and said flatly, "Hand over the phone."

She looked confused but handed her smartphone over.

I opened her reading app and deleted her recent history:

The True Heiress vs. The Fake Daughter

After the True Heiress Found Me, I Went Back to the Countryside to Farm

The True and Fake Heiresses Tear Each Other Apart

"Weren't you still in the middle of reading The Billionaire CEO Falls for His Cleaning Lady? Why did you start reading new tropes?"

My mom looked a bit guilty, her volume dropping and her words speeding up. "The author updates too slowly. I dropped it."

"Well, since you're busy, I'll just be going!"

"Close the door on your way out, thanks!"

My mom slipped out of the room in a flash, muttering under her breath, "So stiff and boring. You can't even play along for a minute. You're exactly like your unromantic father."

Seriously, whose mother treats internet soap-opera novels like the Bible and randomly tries to act out scenes from them?

I sighed, opened my laptop again, and tried to get back into my writing flow.

But the door flew open again.

This time, it was my panicked four-year-old little brother, Leo.

"Sister, it's bad! Your cover is blown! My—my—my real biological sister is back!"

Leo was only four, completely corrupted by being raised by our mom. In this entire house, he was the only one who actively participated in her weird, dramatic roleplay scenarios. Coupled with his toddler-level vocabulary, they were an unstoppable force of exhaustion.

I kept my face completely straight. "You're a step too late. I already exposed Mom's act. Did she not warn you?"

I pinched his soft, chubby cheek and smiled wickedly. "You're done for. You aren't Mom's favorite little boy anymore. She's not going to play with you."

He dodged me, trembling. "No, Harper, I'm serious! There's an actual girl downstairs. She said you aren't Mom and Dad's real daughter. She said she is."

"Mom heard that and literally collapsed onto the floor! You have to come down and see!"

When I went downstairs, the girl was curled up in my mom's arms, sobbing.

"Mom, I finally found you! You have no idea what kind of life I've been living all these years."

"Beatings and scoldings were a daily routine. Before my old bruises could even heal, they'd give me new ones."

"They're incredibly sexist, too. Once they had a son, my very existence became a sin to them."

My mom looked a bit dazed. She glanced awkwardly at the girl, clearly unable to get into character, and then looked up at me.

"Congratulations, Mom! Your dream finally came true!" I said.

"She really does look exactly like you. We don't even need a DNA test."

"No, wait, Harper, come help me up. My legs feel like jelly," my mom called out, reaching for me.

But the girl was incredibly sharp. She beat me to it, firmly gripping my mom's arm.

"I've got you, Mom."

"Call your dad and tell him to get home right now," my mom ordered.

"I'll do it! I'll do it!" the girl immediately volunteered. But a second later, she looked up at me with a lonely, shattered expression. "Sister... am I even worthy of having Dad's phone number?"

"Terrible acting, yet she loves the drama. Yep, Mom definitely gave birth to this one," my little brother muttered from behind me.